Page 94 of The Duke's Pet

The toy was cool and smooth and as it went higher her hole parted for its entry.

It was impossible to purr and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she held her breath.

On and on he went; the thing was huge, or it certainly felt it. Heavy and dense, too.

The diameter increased and a sting whipped around her asshole. It was too much.

She flinched and her eyes moistened. Biting on her bottom lip, she held in the demand for him to stop. That would get her nothing but a redder bottom.

“You’re doing well, little kitten. Nearly there.”

“Ohh...”

It didn’t feel like it. This plug was so long and wide. Her ass was full of it.

And then it popped into her and the bar stopping it going farther sat coolly on her buttocks. The fluffy tail trailed down the back of her right thigh.

“Well done,” he said, stroking the tail and in doing so his fingers caressing her leg. “It pleases me to see you this way.”

“Yes... Sir.” She clenched around the invasion. It shifted inside her and she gasped at the sensation.

He chuckled. “My little kitten is growing up, learning about new things and what her body needs.”

She blew away a strand of hair that had fallen against her lips and forced herself to relax.

But the moment she did he spanked her again. This time it was many more than two.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

She clenched around the plug and it jostled within her. Her pussy was dampening and pulsing. Her breaths were hard to catch and she writhed within his firm hold.

He kept on going, as if he enjoyed the sound echoing around the grotto, mingling with her shocked gasps.

The heat built fast and wild.

And then he stopped.

She was breathing hard, her mind was emptying, thinking of nothing but his hands on her and the tail she was wearing.

The vast room was quiet, save for her labored breathing, as he walked his fingers over her ass, from one cheek to the other. He then stroked down the back of her thighs, to behind her knees and clutched the tail.

She sensed him holding it up, high and arched her back, her rump lifting.

“Pretty little kitten has a lovely long tail.” He tugged it a little.

She raised her bottom even higher, going with the dragging sensation.

He pulled some more and she was forced to push upward, so her hands were on his thighs.

“Remove your clothing,” he said, still holding the tail, and in turn tugging on the well-secured plug.

“Yes... Sir.” She was tense and in an awkward position, but set to the task of stripping off.

Within a few minutes she was devoid of her layers and staring at her pile of fine clothes that lay in a heap on the dusty floor.

“Much better. Kittens don’t wear clothes.” He released her tail. “But they do walk on all fours.”

Jemima knew exactly what that meant. He wanted her on her hands and knees. Bottom in the air and her tail swishing.

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