I woke to daylight and found Master looking down at me with a faint smile on his face. It took me a couple of moments to work out that I was curled up at the bottom of his bed - just like a kitten - and I was all wrapped up in his dressing gown. There was still a pleasant tingle in my bits but my nipples were a bit sore.
He gave me a nod to tell me I could talk.
"What did you do to me last night?" I asked, even though I really knew the answer.
"I didn't do anything. You did it all on your little own... and you seemed to be having a good time."
"But I would never have thought of doing all those things. And..." for some reason I felt embarrassed to admit it, "it was much nicer because you were making me do it!"
He smiled affectionately down on me for a moment and rubbed my back but then, with no warning, he whipped the dressing gown off me and gave me a firm rap on the bottom. "So," he said, "gym session?"
I wanted to say something but managed to control myself, after all, it wasn't my place to say anything at a time like that. Instead I started to move.
But Master must have noticed. "You may say it," he said.
"I'm all sticky and horrible."
"No problem," he responded with a smile.
A few seconds later, I'd find out that I should have been more suspicious of that smile.
"Close your eyes," he told me gently.
I did as I was told and felt myself being whisked off the bed and carried through to the bathroom. We were almost there by the time I realised that the reason he was telling me to keep my eyes closed was because he was naked too.
"Keep your eyes closed or I will definitely be Mr Grumpy," he warned me. Then he popped me onto my feet inside the shower cubicle and stepped in behind me. There was plenty of room for the two of us in there.
Yay! Ever since I'd seen his mega-hi-tech shower, I'd wanted to try it out. It was about the size of a small room and had about fifty water jets.
I mean... I wasn't quite sure what I thought about sharing a shower with Master... but my body liked the idea.
"Nose and mouth closed too," he casually ordered me. "Water's turning on now!"
I held my breath and water jetted out at us from every direction. And whilst I might have managed last night without screaming, I certainly screamed as soon as those jets of water hit me.
"It's cold!" I gasped.
"Of course it's cold. If it wasn't, my kitten would start getting all sorts of naughty ideas and find herself getting even stickier. Paws behind your head."
I hurried to do as I was told... and I also decided not to tell him what I thought about the whole cold shower idea. I didn't want to spend a single second longer in there than I had to... so I had to be the best little kitten I possibly could!
I didn't really know what I wanted to think when he started to wash me. I was probably too numb with the shocking cold to think. Down my back and over my bottom - in as much as I have anything by way of a bottom to wash. Under my arms - that tickled - then down my sides. Then down my front and over my breasts, washing that bit of the stickiness away. My nipples were rock hard again but that was just the cold!
"Legs apart, Kitten," he ordered me before attacking my bottom bits simultaneously from the front and rear. It was another of those crazy, mixed up experiences that he enjoys inflicting on me and it certainly left me gasping - and I'm almost sure that wasn't just the cold.
He washed down my legs, inside and out, and round my feet - that tickled again - and then he was done. The water was turned off and a towel draped around me and before I could really think, I was dry and he was dressed in his gym clothes and I was being hustled out of the bathroom.
"Should you need to, you may wear your kit," he told me as we made our way along to the lift.
"I don't particularly need it," I answered. I was getting used to the whole naked exercise thing by now. Once you got past the embarrassment bit, it was really quite liberating!
And, after last night, I never had to be embarrassed in front of him again!
Like... ever!
Master smiled as we descended in the lift together. "I appreciate the fact that you did not choose to abuse that offer," he told me.
At breakfast, he reminded me about my planned walk and then phoned down to Elroy to get him to organise some stuff for me.
"You can go down through the back gate," he told me, "but make sure that Elroy knows you're heading out that way or you will set off all kinds of intruder alarms!"
Again, I was struck by the fact that it was a bit like living in a fortress...
Or maybe a prison!
Elroy was a bit later than usual but when he arrived he had a collection of walking things for me. I'd assumed he'd just turn up with my old jeans and trainers but, of course, being ex-military, he had clear ideas about what you need to wear to go walking. He'd brought up a couple of pairs of professional looking combat trousers and a jacket... and about fifty different pairs of walking shoes, in various styles and sizes.
He spent what felt like three days choosing the best pair for me and adjusting them. I wouldn't believe anybody could get quite so stressy about what lacing system to use on a pair of shoes but I must admit that, once we got it right, I did notice the difference. They seemed to hug my feet really securely and were amazingly comfy.
He even had a small rucksack for me - and had managed to find one with a picture of a lynx on it. I sort of teased him about it not being a kitten - I didn't really know Elroy well enough yet to tease him properly - and he managed to keep a completely flat face as he told me that he had found a couple with pictures of kittens on them but they were made for children and he didn't think they were good enough for me.
I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies!
There was a waterproof raincoat in the rucksack that cleverly folded up into its own pocket and he told me never to leave home without it.
When we were done, he disappeared, taking the other forty nine pairs of shoes with him. I guess he was going to take them back to the shop.
The rest of my morning was busy.
First I set to work at my piano practice. Master kept a close eye on the notes that I kept in my kitten notebook and every couple of days he'd give me a lesson. And, once I'd got the hang of about half a dozen of his scales, he'd let me start on a couple of simple pieces that were recognisable as music so I found myself looking forward to it!
Then I curled up on one of the sofas with my latest books - one on management and one on economics. Once upon a time, I'd have found that stuff brain-numbingly boring but, after days of counting tiles in his punishment room, nothing would ever be boring again. Of course he quizzed me about the books every evening and I'd managed to avoid the full Mr Disappointed thing so far but a couple of times he'd made it clear that he wanted more effort - and more serious thinking.
But by noon I'd made a fair bit of progress so I felt pretty comfortable as I ate my sandwich.
Then, after lunch, I set off.
Elroy must have seen that I was coming down in the lift because he was waiting for me, down in the lobby, and he walked down to the bottom of the garden with me. On the way down, we met another couple who were eating lunch on the terrace at the back of the block. They gave me a friendly, "Good afternoon," but I just knew they were whispering, 'who's she?' as soon as my back was turned.
Luckily they didn't ask.
I mean... what should I say?
'Mr Bossy's kitten,' wouldn't be all that helpful... I didn't even know his name!
Elroy showed me how to get out of the bottom gate and, more importantly, how to get back in again without setting off about fifteen different intruder alarms.
And then I set off walking.
There was a narrow path that led left along the top of the slope for a while, with a couple more gates into other blocks of flats and things, but then it plunged down into the wooded valley. The path was quite steep and, in some places, they'd even put in steps.
I wasn't used to the whole 'walking in the woods' thing and it made me feel a bit funny. Master said it was a country park but it didn't feel like any sort of park. It went on for miles and there were hardly any people about. And there were all those stories about little girls getting lost in the woods with bears and wolves and things. I mean... I was pretty sure that there was nothing like that about but I still managed to do a good job of scaring myself!
There were far too many trees for my liking too... and I kept thinking that there were people hiding behind them just waiting to jump out on me. I had to keep telling myself to stop being so silly... Master would never have let me come here on my own if it was dangerous.
But I never managed to totally convince myself!
And I was very careful to make sure I watched where I was going so I'd be able to find my way back home again... breadcrumbs and witches and all that!
At last the path reached a track, down at the bottom of the valley - it was just about wide enough to get a car along - and I turned right. There was a little tumbling stream on my left and, with the sunlight dappling between the trees, it was really pretty.
I walked for what felt like quite a long time until the track crossed the stream at a rickety-looking bridge and I decided that it was a good time to turn back. I definitely didn't like the look of that bridge.
As I climbed back up the steep slope, I was pleased I had my new shoes. It would have been a tricky climb in ordinary trainers.
And when, at last, I made it home, I felt quite pleased with myself and decided I'd earnt an apple - I was pretty sure that Mr Fussy wouldn't get too fussy about that!
With my walks and piano and all the reading, I had plenty of stuff to do in the daytime but I still looked forward to Master returning in the evening. And a couple of days later, when he'd finished his phone calls, he turned his big Mr Bossy chair to look at me. I could tell that he had something to say so I did my best 'good kitten' kneeling thing.
"You've been back with me for a month now ," he said, "and so the punishment phase of our relationship is over."
I felt a little burst of joy at that and sort of wanted to hug him but I was a good kitten and didn't move.
"So, from now on, you're just working your way through repaying your debt."
"But you'll still be doing the kitten thing with me?" I asked.
"Of course," he answered. "You did betray my trust, remember, and you still owe me for that," he gave me a stern look and gave me a chance to think about it.
"And, anyway, I get the impression that you're starting to enjoy it as much as me."
'Don't be so stupid!' I wanted to snap but his eyes on me and, to be honest, his unspoken threat to my bottom, forced me to stop and think.
Did I really hate it? Or did I just hate the idea of it?
Or did I, maybe, hate the fact that I liked it?
My pause told him all he needed to know and he gave me one of his all-knowing and understanding smiles.
And I definitely hated how much I liked that smile and I wanted to start throwing things at him but I managed to keep a grip on myself. I knew that his reaction to that sort of thing would be... distinctly uncomfortable!
He smiled at me... he knew what I'd been thinking!
"But, as a reward for good behaviour, and as a special treat to celebrate the end of the punishment, Kitten rules are to be suspended for the evening. I'd like you to get dressed and join me for dinner."
I felt a wild surge of excitement inside me at the thought of clothes... and cutlery... and maybe even normal conversation!
"Tonight I rather fancy something Indian," he told me.
Oh!
I didn't say anything but Master must have seen the disappointment in my face. "What's the matter, Kitten?" he asked.
"I don't really like Indian food."
"That's very much like saying you don't like European food!" he replied with a laugh.
I had to laugh too. I guess it was true.
"I expect what you really mean is that you don't like food that's so hot that it sears your taste buds."
Again I had to laugh. "I suppose you're right," I answered. I'd only ever tried the stuff my stepfather made me eat... it was so hot it hurt!
He thought for a moment then said, "I'll tell you what I'm going to do then. I happen to know the chef at a local Indian restaurant. He comes from Lucknow where they pride themselves on producing 'The Food of Kings' and his food is certainly as good as any I've ever tasted... even when I was in India."
Was I surprised that he had been to India? Not really, I suppose.
"So I'm going to tell him that you don't think you like Indian food and challenge him to make you change your mind. How does that sound?"
"I'll give it a go," I promised. He'd never let me down so far with food... or, for that matter, with anything else.
"Good Kitten," he said encouragingly.
When our dinner arrived, I was actually sitting on the sofa with Master and wearing proper clothes like a normal human being. We were listening to something called 'The Mikado' which he was helping me to understand, was quite funny - in an odd, old fashioned sort of a way.
We made our way through to the dining room, with the music following us, as usual, but I was pulled up short. Two places had been set up opposite each other and, laid out between them, there were about a million little bowls and dishes with an astonishing range of delicious-looking tasties. Every one of them had a little flag sticking out of it telling us its name, what it was made of and whether it was supposed to be a starter, main course or pudding.
"We'll never eat all that!" I gasped.
"We certainly don't have to worry about that," Master laughed, "I know someone who is very good at disposing of leftovers."
"True?" he asked Elroy who was still busy tidying up the empty plastic pots on the sideboard.
"I have my moments, Sir!" Elroy agreed.
There were a couple of candles burning in fancy silver candlesticks and, as he left, Elroy lowered the lights so that there was just Master and me, lit by candlelight, with all those exciting-looking things in between us.
And then we started eating.
There were subtly spiced kebabs and an amazing rice biryani. There were all sorts of meaty and vegetable curry dishes, some of which were a bit hot though there was nothing that was actually painful to eat. And there were delicious fruity breads and all sorts of pudding things which were delicious but almost too sweet... even for me!
But I was mostly taken in by the starters - these included some amazing little oniony balls and some deep fried sliced aubergines [egg plant] that went way beyond delicious and out the other side.
At last I had to sit back from the table because I was in danger of exploding.
"So, have you been won over to Indian food?" Master asked.
"I certainly have," I confirmed.
"That's a shame," he laughed. "I'd agreed with the chef that, if you'd remained unconvinced, I wouldn't have had to pay the bill!"
Later, I found myself lying along the sofa with my head on Master's lap. I'd have been allowed to sit normally, if I'd wanted, but I just liked lying like that. He was watching the news and I was half dozing as I tried to digest that enormous meal.
I wasn't really listening to the telly but I guess it was one of their news items that set me off thinking. And I was so deep in thought that I didn't realise that he had turned the thing off.
The first thing I noticed was when he laughed and said, "I can tell you're worrying again because your forehead has gone all wrinkly." He leaned down to kiss the naughty forehead. "What's the matter?"
I must have paused for a moment too long.
"Kitten!" he said with just a hint of Mr Grumpy. "You need to trust me a little bit more than that. I don't promise to answer your question but, after I've invited you to ask it, you must know that you're not going to be in trouble for any sensible question."
I smiled. I suppose he was right and I suppose I should have known that!
I rolled onto my back and looked up at him. "You're a drug trafficker, right?" I asked.
"Well, technically I'm an agent for drug traffickers but I accept that, morally, there is no distinction, if that's what you mean."
"And you really don't care about the harm done by drugs? All those lives destroyed."
"No."
I stared at him for a long time, trying to make sense of this. "I don't understand how you can say that," I said at last. "We've been trained from a young age to believe that drug traffickers are evil. Would you mind explaining?"
"Not at all," he replied. He settled back in the sofa and started to run a hand through my hair.
"As I see it, there are two kinds of people damaged by drugs. There are the drug addicts themselves. At a fundamental level, I believe in personal freedom. This includes the freedom to destroy your own life, if that is what you choose to do. It's not up to 'the state' to protect you from yourself... and, whenever 'the state' does try to meddle, it always ends up making matters worse because they just allow weak people to use the whole 'society is to blame' thing as a crutch to avoid facing up to their own inadequacies."
"But what about children?"
"Parents are responsible for their own children. They need to know what they're doing and who they are associating with. Again, 'the state' is never going to be able to do that job so it should stop pretending it can."
"And what about the people who have stuff stolen off them by junkies?"
"The junkies get one or two warnings then a swift bullet to the back of the head."
I was quiet and stared at him for a long time. "Could you really do that?" I asked quietly at last. "Execute someone, I mean."
"I already have, Kitten, on more than one occasion."
I don't suppose I should've been as surprised by that as I was. But the word, "What?" just exploded out of me followed by, "Who... when... why?" I was sort of thinking out loud.
He looked at me for several seconds then said, "As you can probably guess, I'm not going to answer any questions of that sort. In the eyes of the law, it could potentially make you an accessory after the fact. However I expect you can guess the sort of thing that would cause me to execute someone."
"Betrayal... breach of trust... that sort of thing?"
"Those are good guesses, Kitten."
Again, I was quiet for a long time as I tried to get my head around what he'd said. "Thank you for telling me," I managed to say at last.