Page 67 of The More the Merrier

Gregor

The place was packed with people wearing masks of all sorts. Gregor vaguely noticed that some had chosen to wear costumes, while others had chosen elegant gowns. Every year things appeared more colorful and eclectic as his community grew.

He headed straight for the bar and was relieved when no drunken hands reached out to detain him from his purpose. At first, he’d been pissed when Atticus explained the setup. But Gregor knew he was right when Atticus informed him he was in dire need of a night in Dom space.

“Find the curvaceous lady at the bar in the cat mask.”

Those had been Atticus’ last words to him. Arriving right on time, the excitement for this evening’s revelries finally took hold, his cock already pressing against the restraints of his boxers with anticipation.

His vantage point didn’t allow him to see any mask wearers at the bar, but there was one bar stool that held a pair of perfect heart-shaped globes that any man with eyes to see would be salivating over. He hoped she was the one he was playing with tonight. He could well imagine her plump behind waggling in the air as he spanked it, stroking the soft petals between her legs and hearing her mewl like a kitten.

He slid into the space between the next stool over and hers, leaning on the bar. One cat-masked beauty turned his way, and through the eye slits of the mask, her look of mild surprise was evident.

“You’re here for me,” Gregor said, in a voice that brooked no argument. He watched her eyes as they shifted from surprise. Pupils dilated at the command in his tone. She was very responsive, he mused, wondering where Atticus had found such a gem.

Gregor leaned in until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from her ear, and whispered, “You have been a naughty girl, my pet. I should put you in a corner to start with a cute cat tail protruding from between your perfect globes. But only after I’ve reddened them with a trip over my lap.”

He felt her shudder, even though their bodies did not touch. “If you need an out, your word is red, otherwise, I control tonight and will wring untold pleasures from your body at my discretion. Nod if you understand me.”

Her head nodded vigorously, giving Gregor the green light to move forward with his plan. Not that he should be worried because when Atticus set something up, he always ensured the woman was well vetted.

“Come.” He took her hand, tiny in his massive paw, and led her away from the bar and upstairs to the private playroom that he had built. Gregor never shit where he ate and never took a woman to his and Atticus’s home. That was their place, a private retreat, away from everything and everyone where he could be himself.

Unlocking the door, he was pleased to see that his instructions delivered to Atticus had been followed to the letter. A vaporous nebulizer pumped out the seductive blend of vanilla, ginger, saffron, and peony.

The chandeliers were lit with beeswax candles that never melted; they were the best LEDs money could buy. The fire burned, bright yellow and orange flames crackling, adding to the overall vibe. It was worth it just to hear her sharp intake of breath.

“Step over to the fireplace and undress. Fold your clothes and place them on the chair. Present yourself in the corner and jut out those lovely cheeks for me.” The gray dress she wore hugged her curves, and as she sashayed towards the fireplace, he watched those lovely cheeks jiggle just enough to remind him of his straining cock pressed painfully against the confines of his boxers. No doubt about it, whoever she was, she had one of the loveliest spankable behinds Gregor had ever seen.

Discarding her dress, she placed it on the chair as instructed. Gregor wasn’t disappointed in the treasure trove of curves and silky skin that lay beneath the dress. Her bra was next, her breasts bounced free, and despite the heat kicking out from the fireplace, her nipples pebbled.

Finally, the scrap of silk between her creamy thighs was removed, giving him a view of her glistening entrance. She was ready to play. Stepping to the corner, she glanced over her shoulder, her expression telling him she was seeking approval for performing as expected.

Done with the distance, Gregor gently moved her to the corner, tipping her forward until her forehead rested against the wall. He intertwined her arms and gave a slight tug on her hips to draw her buttocks out.

He ran his hands down her shoulders, gently massaging her. She almost purred as he kneaded away the tension he found buried in her tight muscles. Running his hands down her ribs, he reached around, cupping her breasts, which fit in his large palms perfectly. He thrummed her nipples, eliciting a series of soft mewls from his kitty-cat. He had to admit, keeping the masks on added a whole other level of mystique to their play and was very different from blindfolds, although that was one of his favorites. The sensory play was intensified when one couldn’t see what was coming, but this was even better in that it allowed them both anonymity and heightened their responses.

Gregor alternated between pinching and rolling her swollen nipples to thrumming and teasing. Her perfect ass pressed back towards him, straining for his touch. But Gregor was in no hurry, she would take what he gave her on his time. Learning her responses was part of the pleasure for him, and she was giving him untold pleasure. He knew he was breaking her down, every mewl and moan evidence of her enjoyment and desire.

When one word fell from her lips, “please,” he knew it was time to move on. Gregor spun her around and gripped her ass cheeks, holding her in place against him.

“Is this what you want, kitten?” He worked her ass like he had her breasts, kneading, squeezing, and gently massaging. His kitten dropped her head back, completely surrendering herself to his ministrations.

My god, she’s perfect. The mantra played in a loop.

Dropping his head, he took her tortured nipple in his mouth.

“Oooh! Yes, yes, please,” she begged, grinding against his leg. Her voice was soft and melodic, and Gregor found himself wanting to hear more.

“Oh no you don’t, kitty-cat. No coming without my permission.”

Her head snapped up. “Please, Sir, I need to come so badly.”

“Your needs are my priority, and I will fulfill them as I see fit.” Still in her heels, the woman was level with his chin.

She glared up at him, the first sign of defiance from her. She stomped her foot. “I want to come now.”

He should have been annoyed, but her spitting cat impersonation amused him. Ignoring her outburst, he pointed to the spanking bench on the other side of the room. “Come, my pet, time for you to learn who’s in control.”

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