Kiss Me Caitlin … (contd.)

This piece of fantasy/enchantment fiction follows on from my submission for to #MasturbationMonday, concluding here for #WickedWednesday.

It was inspired by the halloween-themed stockings May Moore modelled and a story prompt a friend provided.


There had been a commotion in the village when Caitlin’s most recent suitor had arrived to pay court. To emphasise status, he’d brought an entourage of servants carrying bolts of cloth and leading 2 goats. While the rich man had tried unsuccessfully to woo Caitlin, his livestock had wandered chaotically around, eating vegetables and trampling crops grown by the villagers, .


Giles had broken away from his chores in time to observe Caitlin’s total disgust at the arrogance of her visitor. He heard angry, raised voices, mainly hers, before the door slammed. The merchant left, stumbling into the goats as he hastened to distance himself from the scene of his humiliation. With his servants, he turned tail, leaving the rustic crowd laughing and jeering at the spectacle.


Although Giles’ heart lifted that the merchant had struck out,  his nerves increased. His usual easy manner and  courage faltered at the prospect of knocking on such a formidable woman’s door. How would he talk to Caitlin? Neither flattery nor boasting would win her heart. He felt he needed something different, a connection. It was then that he spied her cat, en route to her latest hunting expedition.


“Hey Puss!” he coaxed, trying to lure it closer.
The cat twitched her tail angrily and blinked her green eyes. Judging that today she was in no mood for a fuss, Giles let her pass. 


Later that evening he strolled round the village smoking a pipe of sweet herbs. Passing Caitlin’s home, as he often did he drew as close as he dared. Once again he heard moans and laboured breathing from within. The tingle in his member was instant, as was the pricking up of hairs on the back of his neck. It was such a primal noise that it spoke directly to his loins causing a thrum of lust and excitement. He felt sure that he could bring Caitlin satisfaction, make her groan and purr with pleasure, just as she was doing now. He resolved to make a move to get acquainted soon, but for now he must deal with the turgid swelling in his breeks. Giles headed back to the stables for some privacy.


The next day his plan was hatched, and he carried out his chores for the blacksmith while looking up frequently, waiting for Caitlin’s cat to pass. He’d secreted a piece of meat in his pocket for drawing her closer. When she finally stalked past, head and tail held high, he chirped at her with pursed lips, proffering the meat. 


She was no longer suspicious of Giles’ motives but, like all cats, she needed coming over to seem like her idea. He knelt to rub between her ears and under her chin, ‘til she purred, smearing the side of her face against him for more. Giles had a cut on his finger which he opened up, squeezing until droplets of blood bloomed from the fissure. As he distracted the cat by feeding her the morsel of meat from his pocket, he surreptitiously wiped a streak of his bright blood on her hind leg.


Giles scooped up the relaxed cat; she draped herself bonelessly in his arms. He hurried to Caitlin’s house, mounted the steps and rapped on her door.


“Mistress Caitlin, come quickly!”


Heart pounding, he waited for an answer. When she didn’t come to the door, Giles called again.


“Mistress Caitlin, your cat is hurt. Are you home?”


He pushed against the door which swung open, so he tentatively stepped inside. Calling her name again he lowered the cat gently to the floor.

“Where’s the lady of the house Puss?” he puzzled, scanning the interior.


The cat scampered away and sprang onto the table. From that vantage point she fixed him speculatively with her green eyes.


Giles took in his surroundings. The kitchen was neat and tidy, with rows of shelves crowded with items preserved in jars and bottles. Bunches of herbs hung from the ceiling, fragrancing the room. A large cooking pot hung over the fire.


“Mistress Caitlin?” he called again, ducking to avoid a low beam.


“Did I invite you in?” came a female voice from behind him.


Startled, Giles whirled round to see Caitlin in all her voluptuous glory, leaning against the table. With hands on her generous hips she cocked one eyebrow inquisitively. She was beautiful when she was angry.


“Your cat …” he gestured to where he’d seen it last, “seems to have an injured hind leg. I carried her here.”


“Injured was she?” She pushed off the table, moving towards him with a sway of her skirts.


Giles felt the pulse drum in his veins. Caitlin was close now. After admiring her for so long it was both exhilarating and terrifying. He nodded and tried to keep his wits about him.

“Yes, she was bleeding, I can show you.” 


He looked around for the tortoiseshell cat, bending low to peer under the table and chairs. He caught a glimpse of Caitlin’s stockinged legs, hugged alluringly by bands of amber and brown. Those legs had become the object of many of his recent fantasies.


“Oh I think she’ll be alright.” Caitlin laid a hand on his arm. “Did she scratch you? She doesn’t like strangers.”


“Oh we’re not strangers.” Giles searched Caitlin’s face for traces of anger but found none. “Puss and I have become friends.”

“Is that so?” Looking amused, Caitlin stepped closer, invading his personal space. Her dress brushed against his breeches, her breasts were barely restrained by her bodice. He felt his cock stirring.

“That’s right,” he held her gaze to emphasise his sincerity, almost drowning in the depths of her long-lashed green eyes. “She lets me tickle her tummy.”


His eyes roamed over her full apricot lips before alighting on the pillowy mounds of her breasts. Caitlin seemed to preen under his gaze. She was so different in temperament from what he’d expected, making a lie of everything negative he’d heard. 


Standing as close as they were, Giles was alert to every breath causing her chest to rise and fall. Warmth emanated from her and the faint musk of her arousal drifted up, making his mouth water and his cock throb almost painfully in the confines of his clothes.


“What’s your name?” Caitlin’s voice became a husky purr. Her hand weighed heavy on his arm, her sharp nails teasing against the skin.


“Giles,” he replied. 


Was he dreaming? She picked up his hand and began rubbing her cheek against it. Her skin was pale like snowdrops and so smooth. He longed to touch her but was ashamed of how work had coarsened his hands.

“Is this how you won my cat’s affection?” she smiled up at him.


Giles blushed, unwilling to admit that he’d used bribes. Caitlin seemed amused by his discomfort.


“Would you like to see where my cat sleeps?” 


Although he remained speechless, she turned and, holding his hand, led him to a door which she swung open. What she revealed was a large bed with a wooden headboard dressed with quilts and soft blankets. Giles was puzzled.

“She sleeps with you?” 


Caitlin began to unlace the front of her bodice, smiling secretively. As she sank into the downy depths of the bed she hitched up her skirts beguilingly. Firstly she revealed her stockings, then a glorious expanse of pale upper thighs. Finally he feasted his eyes on the bright red-gold curls of her bush.

“She IS me!” she chuckled, “I am her.”


Giles was speechless, his cock straining at the glorious vista she presented, while his head span at the strange concept.

“A jealous witch cast a spell on me,” Caitlin continued. “The price of my beauty is that I cannot leave the house except in cat form. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you on my terms.”


She toyed coquettishly with the ribbons on her bodice, spilling the heavy orbs of her breasts. Giles was transfixed by their perfection as he absorbed the impact of this information.

“Come closer,” she smiled seductively. “I want you to tickle my tummy!”


9 thoughts on “Kiss Me Caitlin … (contd.)”

    1. I got the impression I’d left too much of a breadcrumb trail, or perhaps its that people know the patterns fairy/folk tales follow! Thank you Marie xx

  1. A splendid story Posy and very skilfully written. There are two huge novels by Ken Follett set in medieval England, Pillars of the Earth and World Without End. and as I read your story I felt I was in the hands of another master storyteller, namely you Posy! x

    1. That’s too generous Pons! I watched Pillars of the Earth on TV! Not sure I’ve read Ken Follett but he’s quite the popular writer!

  2. Pingback: Sweet Dreams are Made of This : Interview with A Submissive Wife - Posy Churchgate : Pillow Talk

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