Buuuuuuut, when the day’s hustle and bustle is done, then the gumbie cat’s work is but hardly begun!
In a little while I’ll be attending a daytime fetish party with my Domme, one of her ponies and a couple of her friends. My Domme emailed me on Thursday night requesting that I dress like a schoolkitty, since we’ll be utilizing the classroom set that they have at the party space today. I know what this means: I’m going to have meowing lessons and some kind of punishment for not following my Domme’s protocol for how I answer her. I’m supposed to answer her with “yes meow” and “no meow”, but I don’t always do that because a) I’m a cat, and we’re not exactly known for being the most obedient or easily trainable pets in the world, b) I’m fairly bratty, and c) sometimes I just plain forget in the moment.
I’m going to have to request that she take it a bit easy on me this time though, because right after this party I have to go to one of my close friend’s birthday bbq. It would raise some eyebrows if, for example, I winced every time I sat down or got up from a chair, or whimpered when someone hugs me.
And oh god, I really don’t want to be hit with those Delrin canes again. They’re so incredibly painful, especially on an already beaten ass.