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Thursday started like any other day- Kim had been late due to having to climb out her window to avoid old man Vickers, but after she cleaned up the den and did a quick dusting of the house, she started her search for the necklace anew.
To her astonishment, the necklace wasn’t under the bookcase. Sylvia had apparently noticed, perhaps she’d decided it belonged to her and Kim didn’t need to worry about it- which was true, of course, but still, she /needed/ to know it was safe and sound before she got fired for something beyond her control.
But when she approached Sylvia about it, Kim lost her nerve and her voice stumbled in her mouth. If only Sylvia’s had done the same; “What’re you staring at me for? Don’t you have work to be doing?”
“I- But- yes, but-”
“Go, then!” she shooed Kim out of the room where she’d been painting.
It was a stupid thing, something that bothered Kim no end, but she couldn’t muster the courage to say anything about it- partly for fear of looking guilty in the necklace’s disappearance, and partly because. . . well, it was Sylvia. You didn’t question Sylvia unless you had a death wish.
So Kim went back to the study and continued her shelving of books, cleaning the furniture afterwards and wondering with increasing dread just what would happen to her if she couldn’t find the damn jewelry. Her hands were trembling by the time she managed to slot the last book in and clear the last of the dust bunnies from the ancient wood.
When Kim went to leave, Sylvia was standing in the door way idly mixing colors on her pallet with a bemused expression. Her mismatched green and blue eyes watched her like a hawk as the skittish maid did a quick circle of the room to ensure everything was as it should be. It was as fake an attempt to look busy as was Kim’s smile when she met the younger woman’s gaze.
“You can do better, I hope.” Was all Sylvia said before she turned back into the hall.
Kim frowned at the open doorway and exhaled a shaky breath. She stole another peek under the bookcases, one after another, to ensure she hadn’t just missed the necklace by accident. But it wasn’t there.
Not under any of them.
Kim stood eventually and combed her hair back between her cat ears. The routine went from cleaning things up and searching to tearing the house apart, digging through the remains and then putting things back in order. It was during one of these rebuilding cycles that Sylvia- quite rightly- stopped Kim. “What the hell are you doing?”
Her eyes narrowed. She tapped her bare foot with an expectant expression. “I thought we talked about this, kitten. You’re being a /bad/ maid not to mention a bad kitten. We pay you to keep this place in order, not destroy it!”
“Well, hold on-”
“No, no, no. I’m not hearing this. Grab the back of the couch.”
“Hey, now wait a minute here! I was looking for-”
Kim flinched at the sound of Sylvia’s righteous anger. Something compelled her to follow the woman’s demand even as she tried to resist. She knew better, of course. “If I could explain. . .”
“Shh. You deserve this and you know it.” Sylvia stepped up behind her. Her firm body pressed against Kim’s fleshier curves, leaning against her upper back and taking the maid’s hands, forcibly placing them on the back of the couch while she whispered. “I told you I wasn’t going to tolerate this from you. You’re a guest- an employee- Elliot might let you get away with it, but that’s why I’m here.”
Kim’s heart pounded in her chest between strangled breaths as she clutched the fabric tightly. “M- But-”
“Kitty! Bad!” Sylvia said harshly in her ear. “Say it!”
“B- B- But.”
“No!” Sylvia slapped her ass hard. Kim jumped and yelped. “Say it!”
“Again! Louder!” Another firm slap lashed her butt. When Kim tried to move, Sylvia grabbed both of her hands together and held her firmly in place. Her breath was hot and huid against Kim’s oversensitive ear. “Show me you understand and this might end sooner.”
Kim was blushing furiously by the time she managed to force her voice to form the words. “K- Kitty bad. . .”
“Why? Why is our kitten being bad?” SLAP. Kim yelped.
“B- b-” This bitch. . . Kim gritted her teeth. “I was looking-”
Sylvia’s voice was firm, hard as steel. “Wrong answer. Again.”
That caused Sylvia to pause. “What?”
Kim dared a look at the woman, face still burning hot. “I was looking for a necklace that went missing- It was on the dress form but it was gone the next day.”
Sylvia frowned slightly. “That right?”
“Y- Yeah- Uh. Yes, mistress.”
After a moment, Sylvia ran her slapping hand over Kim’s generous rump, cupping her cheek with the tips of her fingers. Her gaze was distant and hollow, as though she was thinking more than she was paying attention to the woman in her hands. After a moment she let out a soft güvenilir bahis ‘hmph.’ and slapped Kim’s ass again from the underside.
“Did you find it?” The younger woman’s hand started to massage into Kim’s flank, rubbing the sore spot she’d just created. “Did kitty find her shiny?”
“It’s not mine,” Kim said defensively. “D- Do you think I’d try to steal it?”
Sylvia slapped her ass again. “You might.”
“Pity,” the woman said with a sly grin. Her hand trailed down Kim’s ass, brushing the plug with her thumb, pressing down on it to stretch her catgirl’s ass. Like a master working putty for the first time, she slid her thumb down, further and further. It was her right, after all, to inspect her employee, wasn’t it?
Kim hung her head between her shoulders. It was. . .
It always had been.
Sylvia seemed to sense her giving in and rewarded her with a gentle purr, bringing two fingers against Kim’s dampening lips. She massaged the older woman’s labia softly, purring across her exposed upper back and pointedly ignoring Kim’s whimpering mewls. They both knew there was no chance Kim wouldn’t let her have her way. “This would be easier if you didn’t have these on. . .”
“M- M-” Kim sighed deeply as Sylvia’s fingers trailed down further- pushing right against her pelvic bone, seconds later she worked her fingers into a lazy circle around her most sensitive spot. “Me- meeeewww.”
“Oooh. . . Does kitty like?”
Fucking hell when did I become this. Kim whimpered deeply while the woman worked her like the putty she knew she was becoming. Her knees quivered, her thighs bristled with goosebumps and the longer the attention- the demand- went on, the more Kim understood that there was only one way this was going to end.
So, she did the only thing she could do; Kim arched her back instinctively, rolling her hips into Sylvia’s attentions.
But then it happened.
Sylvia cupped her hand and slapped her ass harder still. The sharp stinging sensation caused Kim to jump and flinch away. When she went to turn, Sylvia grabbed a hand full of her hair and wrenched her head back painfully, growling in her ear. “I suggest you find it, then, kitten. You’ve been a naughty girl but I’m going to overlook it. . . I might even give you a treat if you find it before Saturday.”
The sudden change sent a wave of heat across Kim’s cheeks. The shame at being manipulated so easily. The terror of what this woman could do if she wanted to. More than that, though, was Kim’s aching desire that Sylvia would take advantage.
Take advantage she did, too. She threw Kim forward against the couch, slapped her hand down on her upper back to hold her there. “Do you understand, Kim?”
“Y- Yes mistress. . .”
“Good.” The woman’s hand trailed down Kim’s spine deliberately, easing down further and further until she crested the ridge of her butt. Kim looked over her shoulder, up at the woman- her employer, her mistress- Sylvia was smiling a crooked little grin telling the maid all she needed to know; there was no chance Kim was going to get any more out of her. “Mmm,” Sylvia stroked Kim’s gently. Then she gave it a couple pats and turned away, fluffing her own hair over her shoulders. “Find it, kitten!”
If she’d been able to a muster a response, Kim would’ve cursed. Instead, she hung her head shamefully, horny and dejected.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?
By the grace of whatever maid goddess that might’ve been listening, Kim’s silent prayer was heard and Sylvia left later in the day, leaving the entire house open to Kim’s probing. No corner was spared; from every inch of the fist floor to the space in between the steps leading up to the second. She ever had the audacity to flip the stupid little knickknacks that filled the shelves in the master bath room.
Minute by minute her irritation became desperation as she searched and turned up nothing. Now, perched at the lip of the doorway into the McKennas’ bedroom, she was wondering just how much more she’d be prepared to do to find what she was after.
The room itself was pretty spacious, dominated by a massive king sized bed against the rear wall under an ugly painting of a cityscape that Sylvia had probably done. The plush golden comforter was turned down perfectly- as it should be- and not a single thread was out of place on the doilies that graced the double wide dresser and matching cherry wood nightstands.
Kim glanced back, unsure. Should she even have been here? Was it her right as an employee to go through these peoples’ belongings? She should, she decided and went in. Nothing under the bed, nothing in the nightstands. . .
In the reflection from the floor length mirror nestled behind the door, her reflection frowned. Her cat ears had picked up some dust and so had her black uniform. She was going to need to wash it tonight. . . But somehow. . .
Somehow türkçe bahis something had changed in her. There wasn’t that twinge of uncertainty any more and she actually felt more confident in that uniform than she remembered being in a long while. If only she’d had time to appreciate it, she might have done so-
But that would’ve lead to problems; a confident Kim tended to get into trouble. A wicked little smirk tugged at her lips.
Kim looked herself over, nibbling her lower lip. Maybe Elliot was right, maybe she was secretly attractive like this. It had certainly seemed the case in the store and even here, she was subtly ogled- desired even. She pushed the thought aside, dampened her lips and turned on the dresser. “One thing at a time. . . Find the necklace.”
She flipped the comforter up and dug under the bed, no doubt looking all kinds of ridiculous, but too far in to stop herself. Kim reached around and squinted against the gloom, kicking up a little dust and coming up empty handed yet again. Kim had to stop herself from screaming as she braced her forearms against the bed, mumbling obscenities to herself.
This was not good. The first job she’d ever gotten that didn’t involve the words ‘do you want fries with that’ or her slaving away at a computer every waking hour and she was completely blowing it. Not only that, she could be arrested! That necklace was huge; it had to have cost a small fortune. . .
The first job she actually enjoyed aside from writing and now she was going to fuck it up because she couldn’t find something she had no part in loosing. What a load of crap! Kim bunched up a hand full of comforter, looking around the room with wide eyed trepidation- her heart hammered against her ribs, breath fighting her for every sip.
Kim’s gaze fell to the dresser and a new wave of uncertainty slammed into her. Going into their room unannounced was one thing, but. . .
But nothing. She needed to find that damned jewelery.
Like any capricious cat, she told herself. Thin, possibly insane justification, to be sure. None the less, she was beyond shame or propriety if it meant the difference between being free and not. Kim cracked the seal on the dresser and held her breath as though every movement would somehow give her away.
To whom, she wasn’t sure.
When nothing blew up she glanced back self-consciously, drew in another breath and then started rifling through the clothing one drawer at a time. It wasn’t until she got to the bottom drawer that she felt her heart really start to test the limits of her rib cage.
On a bed of crushed velvet as black as her uniform were a number of toys, from egg style vibrators to a pair of horse shaped dildos as long as her forearm. Kim’s first reaction was to name them- Phobos and Deimos. Fear and Panic. Strangely enough, they sat beside a silk braided whip and a thick leather collar with a metal ring on one side.
And a bell on the other. Stitched into its padded surface, the word “Kitty” stared back at her.
“Wh- Well,” the blushing maid coughed to the side. “Serves me right, I guess. . .” Kim slid the drawer back into place, her hands trembling to match her suddenly wobbly knees. What the hell had she stumbled into with these two?
More to the point, she wondered; was that meant for her?
A muted ringing echoed through the house. Dong, dong, dong, dong, dong.
It was the clock downstairs.
She was late to start dinner.
Kim did a very un maid like thing;n she slapped the dresser and stumbled out of the room barely upright. “Shit-”
Kim stared at the mess she’d made of the kitchen in her haste to get the pasta boiling and chicken prepared- looking between two jars of herbs wondering just what the hell had gone wrong that brought her to this point.
The recipe card she’d chosen for dinner called for ingredients she’d somehow forgotten to pick up between having her legs ogled, her tail pulled and quietly lusting over the McKennas- a little substitution was in order but did thyme work in place of basil?
It would tonight, Kim decided and threw it into the batter. She stole a quick sip of the rum for courage and poured the rest of the ingredients in with the flour, mixing it all up before she battered the chicken breasts she’d laid out and dropping them in the fry oil.
Dinner was supposed to have been done already, she was supposed to have the place clean and the study dressed up, to say nothing of the jewelery! Instead, she was being a horrible maid, snooping around in places she didn’t belong and working her butt off to appease people who’d never appreciate what she did anyway.
That wasn’t entirely true. Even if it felt like it at times.
They were going to catch her half-assed attempts to hide her snooping and if she wasn’t sent to jail she’d get sued or something. Or, at best, she was going to get. . .
She was in for one hell of a spanking.
As Kim was straining güvenilir bahis siteleri the pasta the front door opened. She almost wheeled on the sound but managed to avoid burning herself at the last minute and glanced back. Elliot poked his head in and gave a little wave.
Then he noticed that the table wasn’t set and that she wasn’t actually done making dinner. That frosted his expression somewhat. Kim opened her mouth to apologize but he turned away before the words would come. Some time later, between finishing what she hoped to hell resembled authentic Alfredo sauce and getting the table set, both the McKennas wandered in from opposite sides of the house.
Kim set out dinner just as they entered the dining room with barely a word between them, taking their seats as if by force and both looking at Kim expectantly. She did the only thing she could do; stare back, dumbfounded. “Have I missed something?”
“You might say that,” Elliot said and steepled his fingers.
Kim looked at their plates, then her employers, acutely aware of the warmth burning her cheeks brighter than her empty fuel warning light. Why were they staring so hard? Why? What had she forgotten or- the silverware! “Ah, right.”
She turned and grabbed up enough for both of them, suddenly wondering if she should have made a salad to go with the meal and cursing her lack of time management skills. She was supposed to be a house maid, a domestic servant that was the quiet queen of the abode and all that happiness. The queen, it seemed, had been replaced by the court jester-
Or the village idiot.
“Sorry- ah. My apologies. . .”
Elliot eyed her thoughtfully for a moment, glanced to his wife and picked up a fork. Something in his expression was disapproving and for the first time in a long time, she knew she should have been ashamed and actually felt it. The heat burning on her face set her heart pounding even harder, she glanced away.
Kim knew better than to speak as they ate, so she resigned herself to standing nearby as she had the other nights, playing her part as the quiet maid that served her employers faithfully and stayed out of sight when not needed.
She was getting used to it, she was even starting to like it. What she didn’t like was the expression on Elliot’s face as he peeled the batter back from his chicken. They looked at one another. There was no warmth in his eyes when he slid his plate forward indicating he was done.
Uh oh. . .
Kim frowned slightly and recovered the plate with the best apologetic face she could muster. When she bent slightly to pick up the plate Elliot laid his hand on top of hers- firm but gentle- and whispered. “How’s the study coming along?”
“Ah. . . About that. . .”
Sylvia chuckled quietly between scoops of pasta and glancing at Kim’s cleavage.
“Pour me some wine and join me there.” He said simply as he got up.
Kim’s heart sank into her stomach, that wretched tension of fear knotted what was left of her frazzled sanity, reminding her that she wasn’t going to be able to keep this job and she’d wind up living on the streets or, at best, working at another damned McJob. But it wasn’t her fault! It never had been!
It was categorically unfair that she be saddled with that kind of responsibility! She had only herself to blame, though. Getting involved with these people had left her torn in so many ways and now she was on the precipice of loosing that job.
All it would take would be one good nudge. . .
“Your wine. . .” Kim said softly as she handed Elliot the drink. He was surveying the work she hadn’t finished with that same quiet contemplative expression he always seemed to have that gave him an air of just this side of superior without being smug.
His voice was cool. “Thank you.” They stood quietly for a few moments looking over the books and knickknacks before he wandered over to the chair and eased into it. “What happened, Kimberly?”
With a broad opener like that, Kim did the only thing she could- she told the truth. “I’ve been running behind all day, mister McKenna.” She sounded like a damn school girl, even to her own ears.
“I see. . .” Elliot swirled his wine. “Kim, what do you think we should do about this?”
“M- Mister McKenna?”
He leaned to the opposite side of the chair so he could watch her fully- when she squirmed, he sipped his wine, gaze lingering over the rim of the glass. Without the slightest hint of shame he started at her feet and looked her up and down a couple times, tracing every inch of her curves, lingering on the ones hidden by her velvet uniform. “What kind of maid have we hired that can’t keep a house or prepare a meal? That chicken wasn’t free, you know.”
“Ah. . .” Kim flushed. “It won’t happen again.”
“You say that now, but how do I know?” Another sip and he was setting his glass down, crossing one leg over the other and looking every part the business executive who was used to getting his way. “What should I believe?”
“I- If-” she cleared her throat. “Sylvia-”
“Mistress.” Sylvia chimed in from the doorway.
Kim’s blush deepened. “Sh-” Her entire skin prickled with heat and excitement. “I-”
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