Usual disclaimer:  This story involves sexual subject matter.  If
you aren't old enough to read this, go home!  Don't blame me if
you have problems which result from reading further.

Copyright by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com) 2001.  Please
don't distribute in an altered form, or with any charges for
acquisition.

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to real persons
is unintentional and strictly coincidental. Any real people,
places, or things mentioned in this story do not appear with
permission, and any representations of them should not be
interpreted as being in any way based on reality.

If reception of this work is illegal due to your age or other
repressive local regulations, liability for downloading it is
your problem, not mine.



The Server (for the Cat Lady) - by Jeff Zephyr
 (jeffzeph@hotmail.com)
MF BDSM cons,  best BDSM cats/F cons
c 2001.  All Commercial Rights Reserved.

-----

The Server (for the Cat Lady) Part 1 of 3

Sandra was on the dining room table, naked.  Tied in place,
unable to move her body, her hands and feet chained, as well as
held with the ropes which criss-crossed her body, but did not
cover any sensitive, vulnerable places. Her head was also
secured, but her mouth was not.  She could talk, bite, stick her
tongue out. Scream, if she thought that would help.

The ceiling was mirrored.  Friends tended to think of it as a bit
of exotic decor, but it had a second purpose for times like this. 
She could see her body clearly, looking up, even though she
couldn't turn her head to see it directly.  She loved watching
herself, seeing her body secured like this, and being able to
watch everything that happened to her when she couldn't control
it.

There were also three video cameras set up around her on tripods,
to record this event.  If she survived this intact, she'd want to
watch it again and again.  Even if she didn't make it through,
she'd still find solace in this visual display of her torments.

She was still wet inside, where Jack had fucked her, not
bothering to clean her up.  That part of the preparation was
always fun, because one orgasm was never enough.  Ordinary sex
was good for the preliminaries, but she wanted, needed something
more intense than mere pleasure to get off again and again.  Her
deal with Jack, her willingness to gamble her body in exchange
for painful delights, thrilled her.  It was her choice.  Whatever
he wanted to do to her when she was tied, helpless, pleased her
beyond words.

She thought back to the scene a week before, when she'd arranged
to be in this situation, willingly.

...

"I'll bet my clit that I can take it, all night long," she had
told Jack, making the bet with him the week before.  She'd lost
it only once, her clit in a bet, early in their relationship. 
The fear which filled her, risking this most precious, sensitive
part of her, excited her terribly.  She trusted Jack to take his
prize seriously, punishing it excruciatingly, far worse than the
usual torments she enjoyed.  Her clit now sported a small, silver
ring, not in the hood, but directly through the most sensitive
pearly tip.  Jack had inserted the needle himself, with no
anaesthetic of any type, no bondage to hold her, and left it in
for hours, jiggling it, cleaning the wound with alcohol, pulling
on the newly placed ring.  He had to tie her down after she tried
to get up and leave in order to keep her from stopping this
torture, which embarrassed and frightened her.  Embarrassed,
because she wanted to pay off her losses without flinching, to
allow him to take as much of it as he wished, to enjoy doing what
ordinarily she'd have declined.  Frightened, because though the
piercing was painful, he had more needles and a knife on the
table, and feared he'd use them.  Anticipating more pain, more
mutilation.  She'd hated having her ears pierced as a girl, and
now, she had a permanent hole through a far more sensitive
location.  Her enjoyment of pain was strange.  Short, sharp
pains, bites, slaps, spankings, brought her near orgasm. 
Sustained pains, and the fear of disfiguring scars, scared her,
even though she enjoyed the emotion they gave her, the joy of
giving in to the unthinkable, losing herself in her lust, her
submission.

Last time, Jack had teased her with the ring, rubbing the blade
of the knife against her erect clit -- it had stuck out then, and
now always would, with the ring to pull it clear -- but had not
cut, had not used more needles to torture her.  She feared, with
justification, that her pleasurable sensitivity would be reduced,
especially by cutting it.  Most especially, by having part of it
taken clean off, or her worst fear, all of it.  His threats to do
that turned her on, and she imagined that if it really happened,
she'd accept it, and love him all the more for being able to do
that to her.  They'd tried sex with a local anesthetic applied,
and she was able to come from being fucked, and her nipples still
turned her on, as they were more sensitive than her clit, or so
she always thought.  They were so arousing, but pain there wasn't
rewarded with the pleasure of orgasm, unlike direct contact with
her clit, which did so easily.  She loved her clit, loved how any
touch, hard or soft, licking or biting, could take her off into a
cloud of pleasure. Sacrificing it would force her into deeper
devotion, giving up her life to her master, in order to
compensate for the loss.

Jack let her have her clit back after a week of torturing it, and
after it healed, she enjoyed her new ring tremendously.  He had
soldered it, so it would not easily come off again, but she
wouldn't want to lose it now.  Her already sensitive clit was
constantly being flicked, whenever she moved, whenever she
turned, as the ring rubbed and bounced against it.  She had a
tiny clip-on chain, which she would attach there, and then loop
the other end around her legs, or just let it hang loose,
increasing the impact of the bouncing ring.  It was a badge of
her devotion as well, a sign that this part of her was no longer
hers alone to enjoy.

It was also the reason for her predicament this night.  Sandra
had four cats, which she loved dearly.  This love extended to her
naked lust, which she shared with them.  More than many cat
owners, perhaps, she shared the sexual side of her life with
them.  When she would be naked around the house, she'd enjoy them
brushing against her body, sitting on her chest, running between
her legs, and curling up against the warm space between thighs. 
After playing hard with Jack, they'd come and cuddle with her,
while she was still bound on the table or the bed, and lick her,
rub against her, make her feel loved, and often, more aroused.

Daisy was the worst, as far as embarrassing her.  She wasn't a
fixed female, while the other three were fixed males, and she
enjoyed the smell, taste, and sounds of sex.  She liked the taste
of semen, licked off her body, her face, or out of her pussy. 
Jack discovered this, and took advantage of Sandra's
embarrassment about it, by making sure that his seed would be
left not only inside her, where Daisy's tongue couldn't reach to
get it all, and its rough surface didn't hurt much, but splashed
on other, sensitive places.  Sandra liked the sensations, the
painful rasping tongue across her skin, her nipples, her clit. 
But Daisy would stop as soon as there was nothing more to lick,
and it didn't take her long to lap it up.  Before Jack entered
her life, Sandra pretended to be surprised and upset whenever a
lover noticed her cat licking semen, and tried not to react. 
Jack didn't mind her being teased this way by her cat, and would
never tell anyone else of her kinky ways, since he enjoyed them
so much.  Or so she hoped.

The other three were used to her making cries of pain, and she'd
calmed them enough that they wouldn't run and hide from it.  If
she had cuts which bled, her feline friends would lick her
wounds, and sometimes, that was both arousing and excruciating. 
Unlike Jack, any pain they inflicted wasn't intended to please
her, and was accidental, with one exception.

Cats love to chase string, and toys pulled by string. Sandra's
clit ring made a fine handle for the string, and she'd hook it
on, and run around the house naked with it dragging on the floor,
or flying between her legs, and let the cats chase it and catch
it.  Mouser was the best pouncer, a big old male cat, who seemed
to enjoy the cries of pain his "prey" made. Taco and Shamrock,
young cats barely out of kittenhood, liked this toy too.  Sandra
sometimes supplemented it with clips holding string to her hard
nipples, but it was the clit contact which gave her orgasms; the
nipple pain only added another incentive to come.

When she came, she'd dare herself to leave the strings in place,
until the cats tired of playing with them.  She knew that if she
stopped moving, they would quit tugging on the string in a short
while.  Not having full control over their actions made the mix
of pain and pleasure exciting.  The stimulation of the weight of
the string was enough to bring her close, but the painful tugs
put her over the top.  Unlike Jack, she couldn't ask them to
stop, but she was big enough to easily get away, and she could
simply unhook the string.

Jack caught her playing this game with the cats one day, when he
came home early.  She hadn't kept it a secret, as such, it was
just part of her private play, as Daisy's taste for semen had
been before he discovered it.  He pulled the string himself,
hard, and she unhooked it, because it was still her game, her in
control.

He told her "If you can just take it off whenever you want, you
won't be endangering our clit.  You should tie the string on,
tight, so that the cats can pull as hard as they want."

"My clit, now! OK, we can share it," she told him.  Then, she
accepted a wonderful clit-licking on her sore, aroused pussy,
before saying "I'll do it that way from now on."

Jack was right, not being able to take the string off made the
painful game more fun for her.  She'd run, and let Mouser catch
the string, and she'd pull it taut, jarring her clit, and her cat
would pull back, sending waves of pain through her sensitive,
lovely clit, shaking her until she came.  And Mouser would play
with the string, or the other cats would bat it around, as long
as she kept moving, which her pain and pleasure caused her to do. 
Her other cats would sometimes hold back, realizing that their
mistress was being hurt by the tugs on the string, but Mouser
would not.  Playing with him, she could use a shorter string, and
tried one a mere six inches long.  That forced him to catch her
body along with the string, and he even made direct contact with
her clit, pulling and biting on it to get at the string tied
there.  She liked that, but her cat wouldn't keep attacking her
body rather than the string, so she always had to touch herself
to finish the task.

When Jack watched her playing naked with her cats this way, naked
with long string falling from her clit ring, he noticed that
Sandra seemed to be taking some hard jolts, as hard perhaps as he
did in their sex play, without pulling away, without trying to
stop her cats from their attack.  He said "I don't think that you
are trying hard enough, my cat-toy.  I think you need someone
else to train your cats, to make sure they push you past your
limits."

It was there that Sandra made her mistake.  Oh, she enjoyed the
challenge, but the stakes were a sign of her lust overcoming her
self-preservation.  Jack played with her body, hurting her, but
it was how she wanted it, just enough to thrill, not enough to
terrify, not enough to maim.  Her pink clit was on her mind, and
the throbbing there made it impossible for her not to think of
it.  Otherwise, she might have dared something less permanent,
less sensitive.

"I can take anything they can do to me, on their own, without you
pushing or pulling them around -- or touching me yourself."

Jack stroked her clit, pulling on the string very hard with the
other hand, feeling her heat.  "I bet that I can get them to make
you beg for mercy, within a week."

"They're my cats.  Anything they do is for me, my pleasure.  I
like having my clit pulled, and they do it for me."

"If you really think so, let's bet on it.  I bet that you can't
spend one night alone with your cats, naked, without
surrendering.  I'll tie you up, so they have unrestricted access,
and can do whatever they want, and I'll make sure that they have
things they want attached to your body.  Your clit, especially."

Sandra was turned on, her clit on fire, close to coming.  It was
then that she offered what Jack was holding as the stakes, for
him to have to do with as he wished, if she surrendered, if she
begged for mercy, before the night was over. 


"As long as *only* the cats touched me, after your preparations. 
No fair if you help them out," she had told him.


"I might need to add some more toys for them."

"OK, as long as it is nothing painful in itself.  No hot pepper,
no needles attached, no clips, no whips.  If you can't get my
cats to torture me better than I do myself, you'll owe me."

Sandra never asked for painful favors if she won, but didn't mind
giving Jack a bit of pain in play.   He agreed happily.  He
rewarded Sandra immediately for making the bet, stroking her clit
and pulling on the string until she came.

Jack made his own preparations for the next weekend, when she
could be left alone, without interruptions, for her ordeal. 
Sandra didn't know what he was planning, but she knew when it
would happen.  She hoped that he'd find something clever to do,
to make it a challenge for her, something exciting her past her
usual limits.

...

A week later, she would have a chance to find out if Jack had
come up with something really special, within the limits of the
bet.  Being bound to the table, naked and exposed, would only be
the start.

Making love in the ordinary way before being bound was fun, but
Sandra upped the stakes in the dare again when she bit Jack's
dick, hard, when he came in her mouth.  She knew that would
require some punishment, but her bet came first.  Jack would be
angry, of course, and she wanted that, so he'd do his best to win
it, to make her frightened, to push her to her limits.

Yet he seemed calm while binding her to the table, which he did
immediately after this.  She swallowed his come, of course,
enjoying the taste as much as Daisy. When he was done binding
her, he got out his knife, and gave her what she wanted.

"If you lose, I'm taking my ring back."

"I love that ring," Sandra had complained, "it feels so nice
now."

"But if you lose, it is mine again.  And I'll take it off without
cutting it, leaving the ring whole," Jack said.  He pointed his
knife at the ring, punctuating his intent. Then he added, "I
might decide to take it the hard way, using a chain, pulling it
off.  I just want you to know the stakes, my little cat-toy.  You
should never bet what you aren't willing to lose."

Though Sandra was sure that no torture her cats could do would
make her give in, the threat was enough to take her breath away,
especially with the knife still touching the prize.  The sharp
cold sensation there was wonderful, and she almost came from this
thought alone.  Jack held the knife in place a while, letting her
enjoy this sensation.  He was good to her, giving her what she
wanted.

Jack, on the other hand, thought he'd gone too far, because if
she lost, he'd have to do it, or lose her respect.  She might
enjoy it, and her pleasing him wouldn't drop because of the
change, especially if he put a new ring in, to enhance her
pleasure once again.  But he had his plan, and was not going to
back off.  Either she'd give in, or she'd know that he was right,
that her cats could indeed push her hard.

Before he started, he advised her of one important rule. "Don't
discourage your cats from enjoying you, as their serving tray. 
I'm going to put goodies on your body, and they'll eat it.  This
will be taped, and telling them to go away, to leave you alone,
to stop, counts as surrendering.  In fact, I want you to
encourage them to eat, as much as they want.  You're their
serving tray, a living, breathing snack bar.  Make sure they
enjoy themselves, playing with you.  You can give in whenever you
want, but you can't take it back.  If you say stop, even once,
you lose.  OK?"

"Certainly, Jack, my lovely master.  I agree, I won't try to stop
them, I won't say no, unless I'm willing to give you my clit, and
its lovely ring.  I promise!" Sandra replied, meaning it. 
Feeling that commitment, knowing that there was no way to turn
back.  Saying no now would mean losing.  This wasn't a pain and
pleasure game with safewords, this was a sexual ordeal, survive
or die.  Or at least, part of her would die.

Jack put the cats in the bedroom, closing the door, making sure
that they would not get out early.  They were hungry, as well,
part of the preparations included not feeding them that day,
though soon they'd have a feast.  But food alone wouldn't excite
the cats sufficiently to torment Sandra, not even with her
encouraging them.  He had another treat for them, which he hoped
would surprise her, and succeed in proving his point. Even if she
did complete her ordeal, he wanted her to admit that her limits
were nowhere near reached by a bit of playful tugging on a
string, even one attached to her clit.  She enjoyed the
sensations too much, at least until she came down from her
orgasmic high.

Fairness was important too.  Jack didn't know for sure that his
method would have the results he wanted, to have her cats enjoy
hurting her, to playfully torture her.  If she ended up just
enjoying it, especially if they gave up on their prey early, that
would be OK.  He'd have to make it up to her.  He wanted her to
be up for this event, anticipating painful pleasure, and from
him, at the start, there would be only pleasure.  Thus, the lack
of retaliation for her bite, which he still felt, making it
easier for him to go ahead with this.  He'd clothed himself, now,
and returned to her with his supplies.

"I smell catnip. Fresh catnip, in winter!  Where'd you get it?"
Sandra asked.  She knew her cats liked the stuff, and went wild
over it, playing with it for hours, before they tired. 
Especially old Mouser, who would bite your hand, drawing blood,
if it held catnip.  Even if just the scent was there.  Other
treats, foods, they'd get their fill of, and she was sure she'd
survive any nibbles they inflicted on her, getting at their
treats.  But catnip, that was another matter.

"My secret weapon, little catnip toy.  Do you want to change your
mind?"

Jack was so considerate, giving Sandra a chance to bargain.  She
would lose the bet, but might be able to negotiate for something
less painful than clit-slicing.

"No, I can take it.  Catnip won't make them too wild for me, I'm
tough," Sandra said, appreciating his offer.  But she was turned
on by the challenge, and bargaining wasn't on her mind.  Her
pussy was wet, and she'd tried to wiggle, but couldn't shake her
clit ring much, but even a small movement sent tremors of
pleasure through her.  Besides, she wanted to see what Jack had
planned for her, and the only way to do that was to let him carry
on.

He stroked her body, kissed her nipples until they hardened, then
licked her clit, sucking on it, making her feel wonderful,
bringing her to an orgasm again, which rocked her inside, and she
struggled against her bonds, wanting to stretch in pleasure. 
This wasn't the way to begin a torture session, not this
kindness.  She suspected that there was a reason more than merely
giving her pleasure for this action.

Jack moved to his bag of supplies, finding a small clamp and some
fine thread, like fishing line.  He tied one end to the clamp,
and placed it next to her clit, still sticking out prominently,
and wrapped several catnip leaves around the string, and around
her clit, before closing the other end in the clamp.  He then
tightened it, pressing the string into her flesh, holding the
leaves in place, and making sure that her clit would remain
exposed.

"I'll try not to attach anything which will cause you more pain,
at least not more than other restraints.  But I want to make sure
that your pets have a good chance to get their treats directly
from your most sensitive spots.  This is just the start, my
cat-treat girl."

Sandra had been bound like this overnight before, and while
release could be uncomfortably painful, she found no permanent
effects.  She liked the pressure on her clit, his touches on her
pussy, her body.  It was relaxing, a calm before the storm,
before the cats attacked her.  She calmly enjoyed the sensations,
putting thoughts of the future out of her mind.  If she
anticipated too much, she might give in too easily.  She wanted
to survive this ordeal, make it all the way through.  She could
see Jack's sharp blade, still sitting next to her hips, in the
mirror above, and that threat was stronger in her mind than any
indignities her cats might suffer on her.

Jack rubbed catnip against her whole pubic area, all around her
clit, and tucked leaves into her slit, then pushed more into her
vagina.  To help hold them in place, he ran more line between the
ropes securing her hips, looping the leaves around it, giving her
pubic area a green, leafy cover.  More leaves were tucked into
her sparse, tightly trimmed pubic hair, also secured with line. 
So far, Jack had left the tip of her clit, with its ring,
unadorned, unsecured.

He moved to her nipples, licking them, drawing them up to their
full hardness. "I'm afraid that in order to make sure the cats
enjoy their treat, I'll need to keep these 'posts' rigid.  If
they eat it all, I think that might let them relax.  He looped
many leaves around her nipples, securing them with a clamp
directly on her nipple.  The leaves did pad the clamp, but the
pressure was tight, and Sandra knew it would become unbearably
uncomfortable given enough time.  But if the cats pulled or
chewed enough catnip out of the clamps, it would relax.  Her
nipples were completely enclosed in green leaves, their fragrance
very pleasant for her, knowing how much her cats would appreciate
it.  She'd never dared bet her nipples, fearing the pain, and
worried about permanent damage.  To win this challenge, she'd
have to trust her cats to chew her nipples free.

Jack slipped leaves under the ropes securing her breasts, making
sure that it wouldn't be only her nipples which would be the
targets of cat attentions.  With four cats, they'd need a variety
of targets in order to torment her all at once.  He tied a line
underneath her armpits, and put leaves there, wrapped tightly,
pressed against this very ticklish spot.  Her toes had leaves
tied between them, and he clipped some to her earrings as well,
making her earlobes a target.

Then, he took a break from placing catnip, opening a small can of
tuna. This brought a smile to his face, and he said "Girls were
always supposed to smell like this, but cats somehow never went
after them.  I'm going to change that, using the real thing."

He put dollops of tuna across her stomach, in her navel, on her
breasts above her nipples, and on either side of her pubic mound. 
Then, he dropped tiny pieces around her pussy, in her pubic hair,
and along her slit.  Even if the cats weren't hot for catnip,
they'd need to lick and nibble on her pussy to finish their
evening meal.

Jack returned to the catnip sack, bringing out more leaves and
line.  He rolled many leaves up into string-like forms, twisting
them around the line, then pushed it through her clit ring,
wrapping it around several times, creating a bud of catnip
covering her clit completely.

He tied the ends of the line to the ropes above and below, and
then ran another line, also covered with a smaller amount of
catnip, pushing more leaves inside the ring, using a needle to
force them through.  The line ran to the ropes on either side of
her pussy, strung up high to pull her clit clear of its covering
hood. More catnip leaves were wrapped tightly around her clit
ring, and the sensitive flesh it was attached to.  In order to
get at the catnip, the cats would have to pull on these strings,
which now held her erect clit up.  Jack strummed each string,
lightly, and Sandra cried out in surprise.  If a touch could hurt
her like that, as a surprise, what would a catnip-crazed cat do,
she wondered.

As a final inducement, he crushed catnip leaves into tiny pieces,
pressing them into her pubic area, especially sticking to all of
the wetness she exuded.  Her most sensitive areas were covered
with a plant which her cats loved, and hadn't had in some time. 
Jack had certainly found a way to make sure they would pay
attention to those places.

Then, he dropped the last surprise.  It was part of the
arrangement, of course, but she still didn't expect him to do it
this way.

"I'm going to leave, as soon as the cats run out to get their
treat, from you, my darling, sweet cat server.  If you need me,
just call out "Jack, take my clit" and that will trigger my
pager, via the computer.  I'll be back around midnight, to check
on things and restore any treats, to give your cats a second
chance to enjoy using you as their serving tray.  The recordings
will let me know if you gave in, or broke the rules, tomorrow, so
don't think about cheating.  You should test out the surrender
command, just in case you need it."

Sandra laughed, releasing a little emotional tension.  Then said
"Jack, take my clit."  She heard the computer say "Your clit is
mine, slave!" in a deep voice, and Jack laughed at that, noting
his beeper buzzing as well.

"It works fine.  Don't say it unless you mean it, because I'll
have to take my prize.  Maybe your cats might be hungry for
something other than tuna, by then?"

Sandra didn't say anything, letting that implication sink in. 
Yes, she wanted to be reminded that Jack would collect on the
bet, to feel the fear of losing something so precious, being hurt
so badly.  But that her cats would share in the prize somehow
made it worse.  Yet they would soon be nibbling on it, in order
to get their catnip, and she didn't know if they'd be gentle in
their attentions.  She expected some pain, tugs as hard as she
encouraged them to do, but this would make her cats use teeth and
claws as well.  Mouser, she was sure, would not hold back, since
he loved catnip and was willing to use teeth there just to get a
string.  How hard would he bite for his favorite catnip treat?

...

Jack went to the bedroom door, with the smell of tuna and catnip
still on his fingers.  All four cats meowed excitedly,
demandingly, wanting their share of the treats.  He went into the
dining room, with the felines following, then closed the door
behind him, leaving the cats confined to that room, with their
mistress, now their catnip toy, their meat dish.  Their servant.


Sandra heard the outer door open and close, but soon had
distractions which stopped her from paying attention to Jack's
actions.  He was gone, at least for now.  She thought he'd stay
to watch, but maybe, he couldn't take it.  Or wanted her to deal
with it on her own, without his presence to bolster her courage. 
Any short statement of surrender would mean losing, so she had to
keep in control, no matter what happened.

Mouser loved catnip, and jumped on the table first.  Sandra
thought he might go for her toes, but he ran up to her pussy
right off, licking at the leaves covering her clit.  It tickled,
stimulating her, as she felt the strings vibrate against her
ring.  So far, this wasn't too bad.

Taco, on the other hand, did find her toes fascinating.  He bit
and licked them in normal play, and flavored with catnip they
were even more interesting.  Since Sandra never discouraged her
cats from biting her in play, even if blood was drawn, Taco had
no reason to hold back, and bit right into her little toe.

"Oow!" Sandra cried.  Then said, "Good kitty, nice Taco."  She
wanted to encourage them, to prove that she was doing her best to
let her cats torture her, as she wanted.

Daisy ran up near Mouser. She wanted something other than just
catnip, as semen was her own preferred treat from these games. 
Mouser climbed on top of Sandra's leg and hip, to continue
licking and pulling at the catnip covering her pussy, as Daisy
went between her open legs, to lap at the creamy semen and catnip
filling her vagina.

So far, this was stimulating, not very painful.  Jack wasn't
going to win her clit if the cats just licked her, nibbled a
little, and had a snack, even if it was taken from some very
sensitive locations.

Shamrock was hungry, and went to the tuna on her belly.  It
tickled, having tuna licked from her navel by a large cat tongue,
and Sandra couldn't help giggling.  He quickly noticed her
laughing, and moved up her body to her left breast.  Finding more
tuna there, he licked that clean.  Then, he noticed the catnip
adorning the tip.

"Aiy!" Sandra screamed, as her cat bit into her hard nipple,
catching a piece of it along with the catnip.  Shamrock seemed
determined to get the green, leafy, tasty treats at the top of
his mistress's breasts, and he knew that when she cried like
that, she was happy.  He bit and chewed, again and again.  Sandra
clamped her mouth shut, breathing hard, to avoid saying anything
which might indicate that Shamrock should stop, not daring to
risk losing this bet.

"Good kitty, nice Shamrock," she said, as she caught her breath,
feeling her arousal increase with the attentions on her pussy. 
While Daisy's raspy, sandpapery tongue was cleaning her vagina
and the area around it, she enjoyed the sensations, despite the
brief pain the contact created.  Mouser had settled down to
licking the leaves above her clit, pulling on her pubic hairs,
but not hurting too much.  His claws digging in to hold him in
place on her body hurt worse. Taco bit her toes again, but that
tickled now, in comparison to the sensation in her nipple.

Sandra couldn't see clearly, but she felt teeth press into her
nipple, and pain which she feared was flesh being penetrated. 
Trading her nipple for her clit didn't seem like a good deal, and
Shamrock was doing a good job of nibbling on it, so far without
uncovering it, or freeing it from the leaves around the base.

"Oh my God!" Sandra exclaimed, as Mouser pounced to the other
hip, chasing a bit of catnip that got away.  He was no
lightweight cat.  When he turned around, however, she felt
something that made her forget about her nipple.

Mouser leapt again, catching her catnip-covered clit with his
paw, pulling at it.  Sandra held her breath, enjoying the pain,
but she knew that Mouser was a catnip maniac.  When he caught the
ball of catnip in his mouth, she knew that Jack had found a way
to get Mouser to do something much more extreme than merely
pulling on her clit-ring.

"Good, Mouser.  Get the toy!" she encouraged him.  It hurt, but
the stimulation was mixed with pleasure.  If her clit was
released, quickly, she could take a bit of pain and hope for an
orgasm to help get her past it.  The clamp securing her clit and
the strings holding it upright made her more sensitive there, and
she knew this would only increase with time.  Even without the
cat attacks, she might give in simply to be released from this
intimate bondage. Mouser dug in again, and again, slashing catnip
leaves, but not getting a full mouthful.

"Ow! Good boy, good cat," she sighed, trying to keep calm. 
Mouser had hit her clit directly with his long incisor, and
Sandra feared that like her nipple which Shamrock was still
attacking, her clitoris was being sliced or pierced, without Jack
having to lift a finger.  She'd win the bet, but the prize would
be lost. She trembled, unable to think or say anything, yet not
willing to lose the bet, not yet, even if her cats ended up
taking the prize.


--

Copyright by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com) 2001.  Please
don't distribute in an altered form, with removal of any part of
the story or author credit and copyright info.  Do not distribute
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the site or archive, or any other charges specifically for the
story, without permission.

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