Old story, written by leather kitten, Just plain hot.

kittens stories are woven fiction and non-fiction. They are mostly just hot and a memoir of her strong desires.

Acceptence, a long journey well worth it.

I woke on my mat to discover several large boxes. I was a bit more than surprised as I am usually quite the light sleeper, however the previous nights activities had me "a bit more" exhausted than usual. I recognized the boxes immediately but was quite confused as to why they were in my bedroom surrounding me.

I rose and went about my chores, curiosity overflowing, there were things that had to be done in the house before I ever allowed myself to worry about extra curriculars. I flipped the switch on my coffee pot, ate, showered and shaved making sure every inch that may be exposed to my owner was squeaky clean. I wiped down the bathroom surfaces leaving it cleaner than when I came, making sure the seat was left up.

I dressed in my black flannel jammie bottoms and an old halter top then moved into the garage. It appears the box fairy had presents for me at my station as well, though there were several pairs of boots and a set of chaps that had been left for me by my Mistress from the previous weeks work that needed tending to before I looked in the telling box from New Rock. For the last year she would have boy bring them and set them near my station, smelling of vanilla and leather and sweat and often times boys cologne. Even though she never spoke about their activities or the interactions she had with her clients I could tell right away what types of play she had encountered that week. Tall thigh high kid skin stiletto boots with a smidge of lube around the front side rim of the top, strap-on, leather sandals with discoloration of the polish, foot worship, black pvc knee boots with mangled finger prints all over the slick shine of her foot, boy. He didn't care, he didn't understand. All he knew is that when she would wear it next it would be beautiful again, did he ever notice? I may never know. But I would know when his grubby man hands and slimy saliva covered slobber tool had been sucking Mistresses boots.

I set to cleaning each pair with a soft bristle tooth brush. I always start at the top of any leather and work my way down the seams. Andy taught me that before I was out of high school. I knew every curve of every single boot, I knew every scuff that would never come out, I knew every knick in the base of every platform, some I could mend a bit, some I simply did my best. Mistress was rough on everything, including her boots. Mistress worked for the Dept of Forestry and fire protection, and happily that is where we met. When she transferred to our station as an engineer she would often compliment my boots, I never had dirty boots. Once I caught her in my foot locker and she laughed as I entered the dorm and asked her if I could help her. She just said she wanted to know how I managed to come back from a fire, shower and have perfectly "manicured" boots.

She swore I must have had 5 pairs. I blushed, laughed and told her 3. That night after dinner and teaching cpr to a group of police explorers, I was sitting in my usual spot in the bay in the quiet, just in a t-shirt, boxers, light duty pants and socks and in front of me on pair of boots. This particular pair had seen me through the academy and even was spared the shears by the captain when I was injured. I love these boots, they were the boots I wore to and from NY in 2002. There they did not help me save lives, but help me give back the lost to those who were left behind. These boots have brought lives into the world, been with me on the lines with convicts. I turned on my disc man, adjusted the ear buds and opened the box that had been Andy's. I still have the tooth brush he gave me before I was allowed to even look at waxes and conditioners. Though it is long retired and MANY have come and gone since. I quickly became lost in the sounds of what ever compilation I had brought with me to the gym earlier that week, most likely Rammstein or DM that soon too became just background as I moved around the top seam and down over the loop and down the back of the boot, the dirt of the afternoons training exercise coming loose in soft little dusty poufs as if I was removing every step taken that day from the supple leather upper of my black leather. I removed the lacing and made my way into the crevices at the base of the tongue. A thick acrylic nail removed a few pebbles from the waffle of its sole. A warm cloth with a small bit of saddle soap was in order to remove the thick black ash and soot that was caked on after trudging through the burnt underbrush. Pair 3 was due for a thorough blacking, however, this was not the place for that. I noted each place that was going to need extra care as I rubbed and warmed the single thin layer of polish with my little blow dryer. Sometime after I began the spit shine she had come into the garage, no doubt wondering what the hell I was doing with a blow dryer, but I didn’t really care who saw me I was polishing my boots. Totally normal around the house, I just spent more time than any of the others would ever know with mine. I LIVED in my boots.

No one else at the station ever knew. No one, I don't think, had ever taken notice. I was going off duty later that night and wouldn't return for 4 days. When I did, there was a small pair of boots in my locker. Thus started my time with my Mistress boots, soon she was promoted as was I and we continued to work together until I had to retire due to injuries. We still live in the same house, I still find her boots in my locker when I "go to work".

The cleaning finished, I windexed the PVC, Washed the leathers down gently with warm water and saddle soap and when they were wiped of the foam, I left them to dry just a bit, tended to my household chores and ate some breakfast. I have to admit I wanted to open every box but I dared not. Not at least until that pile of boots, sandals and shoes was polished and put back in place in Mistress' closet. She would be gone for four days this time, boy had gone home and after I was done I would have a few days to rest and relax. I had thought about taking a drive up to Arrowhead for a couple days rest and to meet up with some old friends in Green Valley. It sounded like a good idea. I finished the bathrooms and put in the last load of laundry into the dryer, the air in my garage was now nice and warm.

I lifted the thin remnants of one of my dept. t's and noted the square was about spent, but the velvety soft cotton scrap would do a lovely job for today. I settled into my bean bag placing a stand in front of me, I began the meticulous buffing until I felt that coarse horse hair slide across Mistresses boot like a sharp blade on pond ice. The strokes smooth and slick I replaced the laces and started on the next. Two polished, one pair oiled I was done a few hours later. Completely relaxed I went in to check my e-mail. There it was instructions for me and the boxes that had been left about. Mistress had left me all of her leather goods to be oiled and cleaned each cat suit was to be like new when she returned from duty. When I completed this ENORMOUS task I was to open the box that had been left for me at my station in the garage.

Box one was corsets, which came with deodorant stains, one was spattered in lube and sweat. I spread out a thick layer of terry cloth towels over the floor in the living room and set to work, comfortable being alone and undisturbed with no chance of visitors. Perhaps this is why she chose the time. It was after all perfect. Each corset brought memories of a night out, or in, with Mistress. Photo shoots dressing her in and out of various outfits and costumes, the only time I was ever allowed to boss her around, the only time I ever was comfortable doing so. I can bring the best out in a subject and she saw that quickly, I never allowed her to be photographed until the subject in the frame was as perfect as the person being studied by the camera. Every position was studied, her weak ankle propped, head forward, hips to the side, feet offset...smiles, lip gloss and hair perfect.

I began to loose myself in the vanilla sent of her perfume, and the heady scent of her mingling with the tangy invigorating scent of leather. I followed the same steps, dusting, washing and oiling each corset, several more pairs of chaps, a ball gown, gloves, jeans, 3 pairs of colored leather pants, jackets and finally her two cat suits, it was sometime mid morning the next day that I realized I had never stopped until I finished and fell asleep with her leathers airing in the warmth of the house air that I had heated to 85. I was exhausted and hot, the entire house smelled of leather by this point.

I fixed myself breakfast, a bagel most likely, turned off the heater and headed for a shower, where I shaved and cleaned myself as I did every morning. I smiled as the water beaded off my hands, thighs and belly. I decided a long soak would be nice, so pulled up the plug and sank into the large warm tub and let the hot water surround me. I let my feet play in the faucet as I placed my hands over my nose taking in the left over scent. My body jarred as I came, the warmth of my own heat mixing with the water that invaded the air that had touched it moments before. My toes rotated the cool steel faucet closed as I sunk under the hot water, my blonde hair floating about my face, the weight of my being lost in the deep pool of heated goodness.

I know it had been at least two hours as I had emptied and refilled the water several times as it cooled off, the AC had turned on, so I knew it was hot outside. I stretched my tired and spent hands and arms, then my back, which was creaking in protest to the extended night I had spent on the floor bent over cleaning, caring and polishing every stitch of leather Mistress ever wore. Perhaps I should have spread out the work. I stood slowly and wrapped myself in a thick cotton towel, wrapped my hair in another.

I dressed in a pair of black shorts, gingham blue and white flannel and my black redwings filled my camel pack, grabbed a few snacks, my 7 day bag and hopped into the truck and headed up 330 towards Green Valley, the best kept secret in So Cal. The kinkiest little lake in the world that allows families that is. :D

So John and Mike met me there and we played dominos, drank and watched dirty (dirty even by my standards) porn. Drank some more then staggered our way down to the lake for a midnight dip. I still managed keys for the water district and the water was relatively warm in the shallows. I made my way back up to the cabin as John pulled mikey up onto the platform in the middle of the swim shallows and began to drill him under the full moon. As hot as it was to see them going at it, they were beautiful when they kissed and I was just reminded that it had been months since Mistress and I had fucked.

My buzz was waning and I was drying off in the warm summer air. I could see across the small valley as I lay out on the deck. In the quiet of the night I could also hear a raccoon make its way from can to can up the street and the sounds of mike occasionally breaking the quiet. I knew it was a treat for him, it was his favorite place in the world to fuck, but only got to do it there when I was around to unlock the beach in the middle of the night. I had dusted off my boots and placed them just inside the door to keep them out of the moist morning air I curled up and fell asleep with thoughts of Mistress' boots resting firmly upon my face the sounds of LOA's Obey me somewhere in the house as the boys settled in. I slept in fits of dreams my tongue sliding down the laces of Mistresses thigh high boots, bits of her creamy flesh playing peek-a-boo with my tongue teasing me. I knew I would never be allowed more contact with her flesh than that, but it was enough. I dreamt of the 6" heel sliding past my lips and fucking my cunt and the taste of my own wetness as I cleaned it off, worshiping my goddess the way that made her come.

I woke to John standing in his uniform a cup of coffee in one hand and my seven day in the other, our team had been called up we needed to get off the mtn and into cherry valley. My head pounded, but this was my life. I slipped quickly into my light duties and boots, kissed mikey good bye and John and I hopped into his jeep and we were off. The air was red, the hills in this valley hadn't burned in 35 years and it was going to be a long haul. I didn’t get to see her for 2 more days, though we often worked in the same trailers. I talked to her shortly, was told which trailer was hers and that I was welcome to sleep there. Secretly I hoped to catch her there too. That night I found a pair of dirty sooty boots, only recognizable by the faint scent of vanilla body lotion on the insides. Exhausted, I brushed them clean and gave them a thorough spit shine taking my 3 hour rest period to about 45 minutes. I napped hard and woke up to find the boots gone and a piece of paper with a kiss placed upon it. I floated in happy exhaustion for two more days. This is where I belong. John nudged me at the briefing as I smiled watching the line of boots on the makeshift dais of the media trailer, Mistress standing there answering questions, her boots shining in the acrid air of the morning. Hmmmm, I wonder what is in the box at home. As I turned to return to my station, with the duty roster and updated equipment log, I looked down at my boots and several pairs around me, I could pick Johns out several yards ahead, the roster was light and I was able to sneak in a few hours sleep under Johns station, who was always good for a sneak trample, the next 20 days were similar, long days, ended with a shining of a small pair of boots and a buffing of mine, blissful sleep then back to the lines. When we got home Mistress showed me her new boots up close and personal, she wore us both (me and the boots) to bed, where we stayed together for the next 3 days.
Pinches and spanks pets. Till next we meet dark dreams.

Miss Vonn
www.missvonn.com