My Favorite Feline
Copyright© 2015 by T/k-E
Erotic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young girl is sent to YET ANOTHER foster home. But instead of being treated poorly, she is welcomed with love. Over time, she blossoms. But a tragedy rips the family apart. Years later, she is reunited with the man she called "Daddy", and the relationship take a new turn.
The Saturday morning sun filtered through the curtains and as usual, splashed across my face. Try as I might, I couldn't stay asleep with my eyes being subjected to the light through my closed lids. I shifted slightly, and smiled. Beneath the sheets, I could feel Kitty's warm skin against mine as she stirred towards her own consciousness. Her hand was light on my chest as a leg draped across mine. I could feel her breasts against my side as her eyes fluttered open. In a sleepy voice she whispered; "Good morning, Daddy."
A short time later, Kitty was stuffing some clothes into the washer before breakfast. We had several errands to run that day, and she wanted to get them hung on the line before we left. In the kitchen, I whistled along with the "oldies" station on the radio as I made the usual weekend brunch for us. Later, sitting at the table, I smiled once again at the nymph that had brought sunshine back into my life. "If you're a good girl," I chuckled, "we will stop and get you a toy. How does that sound?"
"A toy?" Kitty looked up. "What kind?"
"Any kind you wish," I answered.
A smile crept across Kitty's face. "Goodie! I can think of a few that might be fun. You go enjoy your morning shower. I'll clear the table then deal with the laundry."
"Hold it," I smiled. "You dripped some syrup."
Kitty looked down to see that indeed, some pancake syrup had dribbled onto her left breast. She lifted it slightly, and licked herself, paying careful attention to the areola that was a soft pink. Looking back up at me, I could see the playful glint in her eyes. "Next time, it'll be your turn."
I did my best to act disinterested. "Saucy wench!" How could I not be enticed? Kitty was a vision of what every man would ever want in a lover. She was just 5'1", and her breasts were just barely a 32-B. Her tiny frame was just 115 pounds, and if she took the time to braid her shoulder length brown hair, she looked like about the same age as when she first entered my life. Her face was that of a classic "dark Irish beauty", with a splash of freckles across her button nose that wrinkled so delightfully when she laughed. That same laughter would dimple her cheeks and crinkle her hazel eyes. As she turned, she wriggled her delicious rump at me.
As the hot water washed over me, I couldn't help but once again think about how lucky I was to have Kitty in my life.
Nearly eight years ago, my wife and I had decided that it didn't look like we would ever have children of our own. We decided to look into fostering one since there was such a need for foster parents. We went through three months of training, and at the end of the classes, we were asked if we would mind working with a girl on the verge of fifteen who had been taken from her home because the parents were involved with drugs and other illegal activities. We were ready for the challenge.
Kitty came to us, a frightened child who was certain that she would soon be once again be ripped out of yet another home and be shuttled from place to place as the foster parents would either sexually abuse her, or treat her as an indentured servant. We welcomed her onto our home with open arms and hearts. We did our best to give her as normal a life as possible, and made sure she had everything (within reason) that she wanted.
For her fifteenth birthday, I managed to get the names of several of her old friends, and we threw a surprise party for her at a park. She cried for hours, saying that nobody had ever thought to do that for her, before. Her actual name is Katheryn, but she always had a fondness for cats.
We had no pets, (due to my allergies) and I would often tease her that she could be my "kitty-cat" since she loved the animals so much. Often she would wander around the house wearing a headband with cat ears. We also had to remind her that when she did come out of her room, it was important that she be dressed. Even then, she liked the feeling of going naked. No, we weren't "prudes", but we wanted to maintain certain decorum.
We worked with Kitty in getting her up to speed with school, and in social situations, to the point that she didn't hide or cringe when new people were around. Over the next two years, we saw her start to blossom into a young woman who had a lot to offer the world.
Then, disaster. One afternoon, my wife was out doing errands. At an intersection, she was stopped at a light. Rumbling up from behind was a fully loaded cement truck. The driver was intoxicated, and my wife was crushed beneath the truck as it rolled over her car. I learned of the accident at work, and drove home to find the police and emergency workers waiting for me.
Kitty and I were devastated, but I vowed to be as best a provider for her as I could. The eventual legal settlement was more than enough to pay off my mortgage, keep me very comfortable for many years to come, without working, and set up a trust for Kitty.
However, the same social workers who had placed Kitty in my care and said that she was coming along so well were soon at my door, saying that they would have to take Kitty away and place her elsewhere. "With no mother or wife at home, there could be questions of propriety."
What the hell did that mean? "We feel that with nobody else here, 'things' might 'happen'." Kitty was given thirty minutes to pack. As she was dragged away to the waiting car, she was crying, and begging the social workers to let her stay. After all, she was seventeen! What was the trouble since in eight months she would be a legal adult? They were not listening.
Watching the car drive off, I felt my grief wash over me. In two weeks, I had lost my wife, and, the girl who I thought of as my daughter. It was a wonder I didn't commit suicide. I wasn't allowed to know where Kitty was, and she was not allowed to contact me. But about a month later, I got a postcard. On the cover was a picture of a cat. On the back, all it contained was an e-mail address; "kittyluvsdaddy@y..." I wrote her at once.
In reply, Kitty described to me that she was now in a group home on the other side of the state near the Blue Ridge Mountains with other teenage girls, and that her e-mail was monitored, so she couldn't tell me much. But, she told me that she loved me and would try to keep in touch as much as possible. Try as she might, she wasn't able to send me more than that. For nearly four years, I didn't hear a word from her.
One night, about two years ago, I was awakened by the ringing of the telephone. I groped for the headset and noticed the time; 3:45. "Hello?"
"Daddy?" The voice on the other end sounded frightened. "I'm sorry it's so late, and I'm sorry I haven't called before now. It's me, Kitty. I'm in trouble."
Kitty had gotten arrested in Jacksonville, Florida on a charge of vagrancy. With no home or money, she was being held. I spoke to the officer on duty, and learned that Kitty was set to go before a judge if there was nobody to take her and pay the fine. I informed him that I was on my way. Tossing some clothes and personal items in a duffle, I began the ten hour drive from Virginia Beach to Jacksonville.
"You her pimp?" the desk sergeant asked me when I showed up at the precinct to pay Kitty's fine and get her released. "No," I snarled, "I'm her father."
"DADDY!" Kitty came rushing up to me and wrapped me in a tight hug that I eagerly returned. With sobs of "thank you" from her, I ushered her outside to the car. She looked like a wreck.
From the grime and sour air about her, I could tell it had been some time since she had seen soap and hot water. I told her that since I was exhausted, we would spend the night in Jacksonville and return to Virginia the next day. Like it or not, I was taking her home with me so she could get her life sorted out. She agreed to my statement without any complaint.
Back in the hotel, I ordered her to get into the shower and scrub. As she washed up, I poked through the knapsack that she had brought. The clothes inside looked like rags and were not fit to be burnt. With a shout through the bathroom door, I told Kitty I would be back with some things in a short time. With that, I headed out to find a store.
When I returned, Kitty was dozing on one of the beds. As usual, she was naked. I paused to admire her body. Years earlier, I had noticed that she would be a very desirable and beautiful woman when she was older. But at the time, I was married, and she was a child, so (for obvious reasons) I had kept my thoughts to myself.
I sat down next to her. "Okay kiddo, we need to talk." Kitty looked up at me and nodded. "How old are you now?" She replied that she was nearly twenty-two. "And after all this time, you couldn't contact me until you were in trouble with the police?"
A tear formed in her eye. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I know I let you down and hurt you. I probably deserve a spanking for acting so childish."
"I believe you do," I answered.
God knows what came over me. I was tired, frustrated, happy at seeing her again, and honestly, aroused. I grabbed Kitty and pulled her across my lap so that her face was down. The sounds of my open hand connecting with the cheeks of her ass sounded like loud cracks as I connected. "Good ... Girls ... Call ... Their ... Daddy ... And ... Don't ... Make ... Them ... Worry... ! Bad ... Girls ... Get ... Spanked ... For ... Not ... Being ... Good... ! Understand... ?"
Each word was accentuated by my hand slapping down on alternating cheeks. When Kitty whimpered "Yes, Daddy," I let my hand come down one final time on her ass so as to make sure that both cheeks got the same number of spanks; ten. "Good!" I allowed my hand to remain on her reddened skin, and I could feel the heat starting to rise from her flesh. It was so soft, and pale. It was the first time I had ever placed a hand in anger upon her, and I was astonished at the reactions that both of us seemed to be experiencing.
"Now get dressed. I'm hungry, and we have a long drive home tomorrow. I want to get a good nights sleep." I released my hold on Kitty, and she scooted off of me. I was not sure how to read the look in her eyes. Fear, hope, and ... longing?
That night, I tucked Kitty into her bed and kissed her forehead. It was a ritual from the old days. Later that night, I awoke to hear sobbing and whimpering. Kitty was having some type of nightmare. The sheets were twisted and I could see her trying to fight off imagined demons in her sleep.
Without thinking, I pulled back the covers and lay down next to her. She was wearing only an over-sized sleep- shirt, and all I had on was a pair of scrubs. Taking her into my arms, I whispered nonsense things to her to calm her down. Soon, she was fast asleep in my arms, like a small child.
When I awoke, it was to an odd and pleasant sensation. Kitty was still next to me, but she had loosened the drawstring to my scrubs, and her hand was down inside of them. "Good morning, Daddy," she smiled as she stroked me. When I began to ask what she was doing, she placed a finger to my lips and continued to get me aroused.
Soon, she tugged down my pants, and lowered her lips to the tip of my penis. With the softness of a feather falling to the ground, she made contact with me. Her tongue came out to wash me, and all I could think of at that moment was that the sensation was exquisite, and that her name really did suit her now that she was washing me with catlike licks.
"Kitty," I groaned, "you don't have to do this. I'm not even sure if this is right."
"I've wanted to do this since I was sixteen," she answered. "I was a kid then, and you would never have agreed to this with me back then, but now..." She paused again to suckle me a moment, "it's okay since we're adults."
She continued to lavish attention to me and all I could do was lie back and relish the situation. After a few minutes, she paused. I did my best to keep from shoving her face back down towards my now ready to burst self. Slipping up, she pulled her sleep-shirt off and climbed over me. With an aching slowness, she lowered herself onto me.
It was all I could do not to explode inside of her that instant. I sat up to clutch her against my chest and reached around to cup the ass-cheeks that were still pink and slightly bruised from the previous day.
"Please, Daddy, can I come home? I want to come home and be your good little girl. Please?" She rocked back and forth in my arms as we pressed our respective selves against each other. I was in no position to refuse.
"Yes," I gasped. "You must come home with me. I promise I will take good care of you, and nobody will take my Kitty away from me, ever again! You're my little girl."
As we made love, we sobbed, we cried, we celebrated finding each other again, and started thinking about the new turn our relationship was about to take. Finally, Kitty arched her back and let out a cry that sounded almost like a cat in heat 'yowling' as an orgasm took her. Seconds after that, I could feel myself shooting deep up inside of her. I nearly blacked out from the pleasure of the sensation.
We were home by midnight.
Laughter in the backyard caught my attention. Kitty was giggling as a strong breeze caught some of the items that she had washed and was attempting to hang on the line. I noticed that one item in particular; a tee- shirt that was one of my favorites for Kitty to wear (it was plum, and said "Daddy's Princess" in fancy white lettering) had blown to the ground. Sensing an opportunity for fun, I opened the back door and strode outside.
"Kitty!" I said as I walked over to her. "You need to be more careful with your clothes!"
Surprised, she looked up at me. She hadn't heard me come out. "I'm sorry Daddy," she answered. Bending over, she picked up the tee-shirt, giving me a lovely view of her ass. I should mention that the back yard to our house is surrounded by privacy fences and heavy shrubs. Unless you open one of the side gates, you cannot see into the yard. Which is just the way Kitty liked it, since I would often find her back there naked. Sometimes she would read, nap, or garden. She was quite talented at growing lovely flowers that I could never recall the names of.
"Well, perhaps this will serve as a reminder." I reached over and plucked two clothespins from the line. "Come here." Kitty complied and gasped slightly as I placed the clothespins on her nipples. I could see them get bright red from the pressure. "Now, keep those on until you are done. Make sure they stay on, or else!"
I returned to the house, and watched from the window as Kitty finished hanging the laundry. She moved slowly to make sure the clothespins stayed clamped to her nipples, and I could see her tiny breasts twitching slightly at the pain.
Once, Kitty told me that while she didn't enjoy being physically abused in the heat of anger, she understood the need for 'discipline' in her life, and our relationship. She stated that she welcomed any discomfort I might inflict upon her, since it showed my love for her, and that I wanted to make sure she understood the boundaries. It was part of her acceptance of my love for her. While I admit that it was arousing to me to partake these indulgences, I never abused my position or authority in Kitty's life or heart.
Finally, the clothes were finished being hung. Kitty bent over to grab the laundry basket. Suddenly, one of the clothespins popped off. A look of horror washed over her face, as Kitty realized that I might have seen from the window. Clutching her hand to her breast to keep the other pin in place, she picked up the one that had fallen from the ground. Coming inside, she stated; "I'm sorry Daddy, it just came off."
As I had seen what had transpired, I acknowledged her honesty by removing the pin that was still clamped down. "Good girl," I smiled. "I appreciate your honesty. Now get dressed. We need to go shopping."
As Kitty scampered off to get her clothes, her voice drifted back...
"Remember Daddy, you said we would get me a toy today!"