“There’s no way,” Katie blurted out.
As soon as she did, she realised she had made a mistake.
I am Katie. Katie the Cat. I am his.
The little mantra she had made for myself when we began dating came back to her lips.
Katie the Cat. I am his.
A note sat on the kitchen bench, scrawled in his busy handwriting.
Sometimes He would leave Katie notes before he left for work.
Sometimes it was little messages, sweet little nothings.
Other times it was tasks, orders. The words were commanding, as if someone else had written them. But Katie knew it was him. She had met both men.
Katie the Cat
Katie stared at the note left for her, anxiety prickling her skin.
My dear little Catty
I hope this sees you well.
I have a task for you today. Something to keep you on your toes.
Below this letter, I have written a shopping list. You are to complete it today.
You’ll notice the package beside this note. Open it. I have found you a cute little decoration you can attach to your nipple piercing. Something with bells. ‘tis the season, no?
You are to wear these when you go shopping – without your bra. Bring in the new season. Should you complete your task, you will be rewarded. How you’ll be rewarded, you’ll find out in due time.
Katie looked down at the package beside the note.
Katie had had her nipples pierced for her 24th. It was something she had always thought about up until that point but had chickened out. Would she always want, she had wondered.
With shaking fingers, she carefully unwrapped the sheer white fabric that had been tightly wound in a bow.
The piercings hidden beneath were metallic in shades of green and red. When Katie – Katie the Cat – picked them up, they jingled, echoing in the empty kitchen.
Without a bra?
(Katie the Cat)
Could Katie even do that? Was she capable of such a thing?
Katie and John had been together ten years, ever since coming out of highschool together and into adulthood for good.
They had started as friends, ended up as lovers and stumbled across BDSM and all its mysteries together.
Katie was no stranger to being daring, she had overcome her teenage shyness for the better part of her twenties.
She knew she could follow an order – when John asked her to masturbate as she drove to work one day, she did. When John asked her to collect the mail from their mailbox in nothing but her collar one Sunday afternoon, she did.
But to go out into public without a bra on? Was she good enough for that?
Was she pretty enough for that? Did she look good?
Should a slave concern herself with the thought of others, came another question within her mind.
And still, Katie (Katie the Cat. Katie, who is His) couldn’t help but wonder.
Without finding the answer to the question, Katie had inserted the new nipple piercings left for her.
Outside, the weather was a blazing 34 degrees C and Katie was likely to cook in this weather, should she not wear appropriate attire.
Rummaging through the clean washing she’d yet to fold, she found on a cotton light blue dress, as comfortable and light as it’s colours were.
She grabbed the shopping list, took a look at herself in the mirror and sighed.
No big deal, Katie the Cat has done quick late night shopping with no bra on before, so no big deal.
No big deal.
The shopping plaza buzzed with voices of all ages. Families walked doggedly on their way to the cinema, mothers held their screeching children, a father and his son walked by Katie, on a mission to find an early birthday present for their mother and wife.
Katie felt and heard everything. Every voice, every turn in her direction, every gentle breeze from a busy person passing by her – every little thing.
Over the buzz of the families, over the stores and their respective music blaring as if in competition, the jingle was soft. It was nothing. You could barely hear it.
Getting out of the parking area was a different event entirely. The ring became an echo, bouncing off one concrete wall and firing off a nearby car.
As Katie exited her own car, a woman in the car beside her was madly texting on her phone, her fingers in a marathon of their own.
A P plate was smacked down on her windshield – a provisional driver.
The young woman had looked up from her phone when Katie closed her door, but something deep down made her wonder if she heard….
Katie the Cat, she did not hear.
Katie hoped she didn’t.
Katie felt and heard everything. The fabric on her breasts, the gentle breeze of the air con snaking its way up her legs and across her thighs. She was aware of the jingle behind the store music, could feel a slight pinch on each nipple where her new decoration hung from her piercing, the bells coming to rise from her dress and fall with each passing step.
Katie was no longer worried about how her breasts might appear to an outsider, she could feel herself growing aroused by just wondering if someone could hear the jingle, since they definitely could see it through her faded blue dress thanks to the outline.
It wasn’t just the decorations that hung from her nipples that fell forward, it was her breasts , which swayed freely as she walked.
Katie the Cat thought Katie. On a secret mission, Katie. You are His.
It took an hour and a half to complete the shopping list that John had set out for her, and though the lady behind the small counter with the auburn hair, smile lines and unkempt eyebrows, looked at Katie (Katie the Cat) with a face that said I know, Katie looked back at her with a face she hoped had said And now I don’t care.
As she pushed the trolley out of the supermarket, the pinching sensation brought on by the decoration tugged at her piercing, pinching the tips of her nipple — and a smile formed across her face