“Okay”- Blaine looked at the line of boxes Kurt had taken down from his closet, accompanied by three, brand new, empty boxes waiting to be filled – “what are we doing here?”

“Well…” Kurt crouched low, labeling the first of the three empty boxes with a black Sharpie while he explained, “I absolutely have to lighten my load here. I have discovered that I’m a sex toy hoarder.”

Blaine chuckled. “And that’s a bad thing why?”

Kurt couldn’t help chuckling, too. “Some of my old toys are broken, some of them I just never liked, and it’s ridiculous to keep it all, especially with how well Nick stocked our playroom.” He moved on to the next box. “So, we’re going to go through each item one at a time, and figure out what I’m going to keep…” He pointed with his pen to the first box, where he had written the word KEEP on the side, “what I’m going to donate…” He turned the box he was writing on in Blaine’s direction so he could see the half written word DONATE, “and what I should dump.” He gestured to the last, untouched box in a dismissive manner befitting of its purpose.

“Who exactly are you going to be donating this stuff to?” Blaine asked, reaching in to the first box and pulling out a frayed cat o’ nine tails. The only other couple they really knew who participated in the BDSM scene were Nick and Jeff, and Nick owned more sadistic toys than Kurt did. Blaine hadn’t been inside a Goodwill in a while, but he didn’t imagine that they had a section for hardcore sex toys and torture devices. Maybe they would end up in housewares. Or pet care?

“Meh, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Kurt said, grabbing the ruined implement out of Blaine’s hands and tossing it in the yet to be labeled DUMP box. “Why don’t you help me get started? What’s item number two?”

Blaine skimmed over the boxes, overwhelmed by the sheer amount and variety of whips, cuffs, dildos, plugs, and other less identifiable instruments Kurt had kept stored away in his closet. He honed in on something easy and picked it out, holding it up for Kurt to assess.

“Keep, donate, or dump?” Blaine asked, holding up a long, wooden paddle, only a few inches shy of being a cricket bat, and gave the air a few experimental swipes. Kurt watched, smirking at Blaine’s awful stance and his limp wristed technique.

“Hand it here.” Kurt reached out and Blaine surrendered the paddle. Kurt skillfully twirled the handle a few times, examining the aged surface of the once polished wood. “Well, it’s a little worn out, but it’s really hard to find them like this anymore. I say…keep.” He handed it back over to Blaine, who stood it up carefully in the KEEP box. “We can refinish it later, bring it back to its original glory, and then…” Kurt threw Blaine a wink that made his toes curl, “we can give it a test run. What do you think about that?”

“I think I’d better cancel my plans for tomorrow’s meeting,” Blaine commented. “I don’t know how I’m going to sit for two hours discussing track lists for the new album after that.”

Kurt shot Blaine a commanding glare that turned his insides to ice, but in the most erotic way.

“Don’t you dare,” Kurt said in a low voice. “The thought of you stuck in one of those stiff, wooden chairs, with your ass so sore you can barely sit still, just about makes my day.”

Blaine gulped, just the threat of it making his ass clench, knowing how his Dom likes to spank him – full force until Blaine’s knees buckle, with a plug in his ass the size of his fist, covered in Icy Hot for a little extra kick. Kurt would probably send Blaine off to that meeting in the tightest jeans he owned after that, wearing a pair of lace panties so rough they chafed with every step.

And God, Blaine wanted it. He wanted it so bad he was ready to undress and drop to his knees, right then and there.

Kurt knew it, too, a smile spreading on his lips that told Blaine he approved of every lurid thought stewing in his mind.

“Later, sweetheart,” Kurt promised, returning to his boxes, knowing that waiting for punishment was as much torture as actually enduring it. “We have work to do. Show me another one.”

Blaine stuck his hand in the next box, rooting around, wondering what new and wonderful gadget he might unearth. His hand hit a mesh bag, and he grabbed it, yanking it out past a rolled up bullwhip that had seen better days. Blaine held up an object that looked like the pelt of some poor, dead animal, tied inside a baby pink net.

“What…is this?” He turned it over in his hands, trying to find a label, a tag, any identifying marker.

Kurt stood and took the thing from Blaine’s hand, unwrapping it in front of him.

“This, my love, is a tail,” he said, tossing aside the mesh and holding it up by one end for his sub. Out of its enclosure, Blaine could see it better. It looked like a Maine Coon tail, thick and black, with stripes of bright, crayon red circling the bottom half.

Blaine touched the dangling end, turning it over in his hand, static causing the fur to stand up and tickle his arm. “Okay, so, how do you put it on?”

“Not on…in.” Kurt saw the confused expression on his sub’s face and shook his head. “Here…” Kurt unwrapped his fingers from the end he was holding and showed Blaine that it was attached to a metal butt plug. “You’ve really never seen one of these before?”

“Nope,” Blaine said. “Never.”

“I’m shocked. Isn’t the life of a megastar filled with kinky orgies and depraved sex acts?”

“Not mine, I’m afraid,” Blaine said, as he had many times before when Kurt made a similar joke. “I only fucked boring, vanilla people. No one half as exciting, or anywhere near as exotic, as you.”

“And thank God you didn’t,” Kurt remarked, kissing Blaine on the forehead. “It’s nice to have a list of firsts to mark off with you.”

“Have you ever…worn a tail?” Blaine asked with a thick gulp in between. He suddenly got an image of his gorgeous Dom, stark naked except for this long, luxurious tail trailing behind him, dark black and vibrant red against his pale skin, and he became painfully hard.

“Not this one, obviously.” Kurt twirled the metal plug in his hand, making the plush fur dance. “But, yes. I’ve tried one or two on in private.”

“On what occasion would a dominant wear a tail?”

“No occasion I was ever in,” Kurt said. “But, when I started, I was a little bit hazy on the job description. I bought a lot of different things, thought I’d have to cater to different sexual fetishes, made all sorts of costumes that…well…I’m not sure what I was thinking. I didn’t realize that if I bought a tail to use with a sub, they would be wearing it for me.” Blaine’s gaze traveled down the tail with a peculiar, mixed look in his eyes. Kurt didn’t know how Blaine would feel about wearing it. He was definitely fond of having stuff up his ass. Plus, he’d look atomically hot, with its silver tear drop plug trapped inside the rock hard glutes that Blaine worked on every single day. And yet, Kurt yearned to use this tail in a different way.

Dominant driven pet roleplay. Something a little unorthodox. A bit of sensual exploration.

“But…I’d wear one for personal pleasure,” Kurt admitted, stroking down the length of it from plug to tip. “Shall we take this one for a spin?”

Blaine stared at the tail, nodding excitedly, as if Kurt had asked him if he would like to be one of the first two men to fuck on the moon. “Uh…yes, please.”

“Good.” Kurt held the tail aside and stepped into Blaine’s personal space. He ran rounded nails down his cheek, ending with a pinch to the chin. “Get undressed and get on the bed, while I go and get my kitty on.”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine said, watching his Dom sashay over to his bathroom, walk in, and close the door, wondering, as he had thousands of times, what good thing he had done in a past life to get this lucky.

The second the bathroom door clicked shut, Kurt heard Blaine undress, kicking off his shoes and ripping off his clothes with tremendous speed, impatiently leaping onto the bed to wait for his Dom to reappear. But Kurt felt no need to rush. He took his time getting ready. He liked making Blaine wait. He carefully folded each article as he took them off. He redid his hair, brushing out the old product and styling it again to suit the scene. He used a gentle foaming cleanser and slathered his skin in moisturizer (since dust from the boxes had clogged his pores and dried him out), and then went over every inch of his body with cosmetic glitter – an edible, seaweed-based brand that he special ordered from a vegan, cruelty-free salon in Paris. He followed up with kohl black liner in his water line and a cat eye wing on his top lid, smudging the soft pencil to give him a subtle smoky eye. He coated his lashes in Smashbox mascara, then used the reddest lipstick he owned, a MAC color Nick had given him called Ruby Woo, to plump up his lips and give him a pout. He covered that in clear lip glass until his lips shimmered. He rolled on his favorite ebony, thigh high, silk stockings, opting out of wearing a garter belt since he wanted to keep his appearance sleek and simple.

Like a Siamese. Or a panther.

He lubed up the plug to his tail. He bent over the sink, found his entrance with two fingers, and inserted the metal tip. He had considered doing this in front of Blaine, torment him with an image of something entering Kurt’s body that wasn’t his sub, but Kurt wanted to make a certain impression on Blaine when he went back into the bedroom.

He wanted to make an entrance.

In order to do that, he needed to be completely outfitted before he left the bathroom. But he did make it a point to moan through the process, describing to the open air exactly what he was doing, how good it felt to have something that big in his ass again, how he might decide to spend the next ten minutes locked away, playing with himself, debating whether or not he should let himself cum. The mattress on the other side of the door shifted with every sentence he spoke, and Kurt smiled at the thought of his sub already hard, trying his best to keep his disobedient cock flaccid, and failing so spectacularly that he would need to be punished.

Blaine wasn’t allowed to get hard until Kurt wanted him to. And Kurt wanted Blaine hard. He just hadn’t told him that, yet, ergo, Blaine was being a bad boy and would need to be spanked.

In which case, that wooden paddle from earlier would definitely come in handy.

Kurt stayed in the bathroom until he couldn’t stand being away any longer, so ready for Blaine that he had almost gotten too close to making himself cum. He tossed on a few last minute accessories (things that any respectable kitty simply couldn’t do without), slipped into a black satin robe (forgoing the belt and clutching it closed in front), and opened the bathroom door. He emerged piece by piece – one stockinged leg first, then an arm, and a shoulder. Finally, he slid on in to the room, gliding across the floor like a siren of the silver screen - Bettie Davis or Jane Russell - skirting the boundaries of propriety by being seen by a man while wearing a dressing gown…and presumably nothing else.

As Kurt walked, Blaine could see from the unsecured slit that Kurt was wearing stockings, but seemed to be naked otherwise, at least up to his hip. He wore spiked leather bands on his wrists, and a rhinestone-and-leather collar around his neck, with a red heart dangling from it, like a name tag. Blaine couldn’t remember that collar and tag before, and wondered if it was in one of the boxes he hadn’t gotten the chance to go through yet.

Wherever it came from, Kurt had definitely been prepared.

Kurt paraded back and forth at the end of the bed, letting Blaine get his fill, but walking nowhere near close enough for his sub to touch. Kurt stopped in the middle and twirled, turning his back to Blaine. He threw a look over his shoulder, blew Blaine a kiss, then dramatically dropped the robe.

Kurt was indeed naked except for the collar around his neck, the bands on his wrists, the stockings on his legs, and that black and red tail, slipping out through the pert globes of his ass seamlessly, like it was actually a part of him. His skin shimmered in the sunlight, and his hair, styled differently than it had been when he left the room, tufted up on top like tiny, pointed ears. He meowed, incredibly cat-like, and wiggled his ass, the tail swishing behind him with each sway.

“Oh…God,” Blaine moaned. “That’s just…that’s just…oh God…”

The whole idea of the tail had struck Blaine as a bit ridiculous when he first found it, but seeing Kurt wear it, seeing how Kurt had dressed accordingly to make it work, made all the difference.

“Now, is that a good oh God, or a bad oh God?” Kurt put his hands on his hips and waited for an answer, but his sub stared at him, unblinking and stunned, his jaw dropping lower with every exhalation of breath. Kurt finally turned around to get a better look at Blaine, and when Blaine noticed how turned on his Dom already was - either from a long session of playing with himself or from wearing the tail altogether - he choked on air. “You can respond, you know,” Kurt reminded him, and Blaine nodded, as excitedly as he had before, muttering, “Good, Sir. It’s a good oh God…oh God…Sir…”

“I’m not going to cuff you,” Kurt said, strutting over to the bed. “You’re going to extend your arms out, spread your legs, and you’re not going to move. Let’s call this a little exercise in self-control.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Mmm, good.” Kurt bent over to whisper in Blaine’s ear, letting him catch a whiff of his vanilla scented moisturizer that he knew made Blaine drool. “Very good. I like hearing that. But feel free to talk, my love. I want to hear your thoughts.”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine said, eyes tracking Kurt so hard as he crossed to the end of the bed that he almost forgot to express his gratitude. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Kurt crouched low, and with eyes focused on his lover’s face, he started to climb on to the mattress, hands first, then knees right and left, slowly stalking up Blaine’s body, eyes on a very special prize. But in the cunning method of a cat, Kurt didn’t pounce on it right away. He worked his way up to between Blaine’s thighs – licking and nibbling, running his nose through the hairs on his legs. And while he did, paying attention to Blaine’s lower body inch by inch, he sniffed, he mewled, and then hummed with a wicked satisfaction every time Blaine’s cock bobbed in response. Kurt gnawed on the outside of Blaine’s hip, viciously avoiding his crotch on purpose. He laid beside him on the bed, taking a long moment to curl into his side, and rested his head on Blaine’s chest. Settling beside Blaine’s right nipple, and with the tiniest of laps, he began to lick. His mouth occupied, Kurt toyed with his tail, bringing it up between his legs and batting at it with his hand. He used the end to brush over his abs and play with his cock, swirling around it, purring at the sensation of silky soft on his shaft. Blaine watched Kurt masturbate with this unusual toy, watched him dust over his glittery skin in those places where Blaine liked to put his mouth, and his heart sped.

It gave Blaine the urge to disobey. He wasn’t cuffed; he was locked to the bed by his own will. He dreamed of switching, acting the dominator and seizing the opportunity to pin Kurt underneath him, his Dom’s lacquered lips parted while he gasped in ecstasy, skin sparkling in the noon day sun as he writhed at the mercy of Blaine’s tongue. Blaine would hold him to the bed by his wrists, those spikes on the bands driving their way into his palms, and that tail, the plug end pushing farther in Kurt’s ass as he bucked into Blaine’s mouth, over and over until he came down his throat.

But he didn’t think Kurt would groove on that. They hadn’t talked about it first. There were strict rules Blaine had to follow, even being a switch. Kurt might play the switch for Blaine when Blaine’s dominator side begged to come out, but only with Kurt’s permission. The dominant role in their relationship was Kurt’s domain.

Kurt was King.

And besides, Blaine liked kitty Kurt being in control. Kurt was an enigma, he always had been. How a man as caring and nurturing as he was, with four challenging children to help raise, could be so fierce and punishing, had always fascinated Blaine. It was a mystery Blaine longed to spend a lifetime unraveling.

Like a cat, Kurt was unpredictable, and Blaine longed to see what he would do next.

But Kurt’s contradictions - his ability to be compassionate and put the needs of other before his own, as well as be domineering, expecting loyalty and total obedience - also had a way of setting Blaine free.

Kurt rolled on to Blaine’s body to lap at the other nipple, using the tail tucked between them to caress Blaine’s balls, and Blaine’s eyes rolled in his head.

“Okay” – Blaine moaned – “I think I get why people might like this, Sir. This is strangely erotic.”

“Mmhmm,” Kurt agreed, and went back to his lapping.

The tail was hot, Blaine had to admit, especially since the end of it was stuck up his Dom’s perfect ass. But that wasn’t all. Kurt played the part of the coquettish cat so well. He dropped his eyes, not at all submissive - playful, with a hint of predator behind them, especially peeking through sinful black lashes - as he stalked his way down Blaine’s body. He stopped to hover over Blaine’s crotch, bending down low and running his nose through his sub’s dark curls. Blaine didn’t want to think nuzzle. That sounded too cute. But the reality was both slightly adorable and hot as shit. Kurt slinked up Blaine’s body, every inch of skin from his chin to his chest connecting somewhere along the way, and when he slid his throat over Blaine’s thigh, Blaine felt his Dom purr.

But the attention Kurt gave Blaine’s cock was devious. He started with small licks – barely there, tip-of-the-tongue licks that he knew drove Blaine insane because there wasn’t enough to them. They made Blaine hot and kept him hard, but they promised no relief. There was barely any friction between Kurt’s tongue and Blaine’s cock, just a single point of wet heat titillating his skin, without inspiring the surge needed to light the pooling lava in his belly, waiting for its chance to erupt.

“Oh…oh G-god, Sir,” Blaine whimpered, hands balling in the sheet beneath his body, anchoring them there so he wouldn’t grab Kurt’s head and shove down. Discipline. Discipline and self-control. He had it in him. He needed it now, more than ever. “I need…I need m-more, Sir. I’m…I want to cum, but…it’s…it’s not enough.”

Kurt stopped licking. He glared up at Blaine and hissed, curling ruby red lips and baring his teeth.

“Sir,” Blaine groaned as Kurt started licking again, far too gently to fuel his building orgasm to the point of completion. “Sir, please. Please…” Blaine was becoming petulant and whiny, which Kurt didn’t find at all attractive, but his sub’s frustration amused him. This wasn’t an official session; they were mostly fooling around the way lovers do.

And in that vein, Kurt liked frustrated Blaine. Frustrated Blaine gave amazing head.

Kurt got to his hands and knees and sighed, sulking with his lower lip sticking out. He stared at Blaine, tilting his head to the right, eyes roaming over his face, finger tapping his chin. Kurt reached out a hand and wordlessly patted Blaine’s mouth, and Blaine obeyed, opening wide. He watched his Dom readjusting himself, straddling his chest, then crawling backward. Blaine lay still while Kurt got into position, knowing that Kurt didn’t want him to do anything but lay there with his mouth open so that Kurt could fuck his face.

Blaine gladly accepted what was given to him. Kurt’s cock in his mouth was a singular treat; being used for Kurt’s pleasure a reward for his submission. But when he felt Kurt’s mouth on his cock, slick heat with crimson lips stretched tight around him, it would have taken a stronger man than him to keep quiet.

“Gghhhh!” he groaned. Kurt pulled off, and Blaine was certain Kurt would scold him for not keeping quiet, but he purred instead, wiggling his hips so Blaine would do that again. When he did, Kurt shuddered, returning his attention back to Blaine’s cock, this time doing more than just licking like an inexperienced kitten. If Blaine could moan more competently, he would have, but the fact that he couldn’t do much more than grunt for the pleasure of his Master, in itself, was its own rapture. There he was, on the brink of an explosive orgasm, with no true outlet for it other than his cock stuffed down the silky enclosure of Kurt’s throat. He grunted, then whimpered, mostly through his nose, as Kurt brought him closer and closer, his Dom’s cock sliding against his tongue, and that fluffy tail swishing back and forth across his forehead.

He also had a remarkable view of Kurt’s pelvis grinding above his head, and he knew that if he could reach up, he could cup Kurt’s ass, spank him, play with that metal plug and send Kurt reeling. But his Dom ordered that he stay still, that he not move his arms or his legs. Kurt most likely knew that Blaine itched to touch him, and that if he did, he’d be fondling Kurt’s balls, massaging that space in between, doing the things Kurt normally craved. But denying Blaine that was like an aphrodisiac to Kurt. Denial and control were Kurt’s bread and butter. He devoured Blaine’s sounds of frustration, his groans of orgasms ruined, his wordless begging when Kurt had him gagged. Kurt knew his grunts, his sobs, his screams.

He lived off of them.

Blaine felt himself cumming, but with Kurt’s cock in his mouth, he couldn’t warn him. That didn’t matter too much. Kurt knew the signs. Blaine’s legs shook, his hips shuddered, he dug his nails into the mattress and whined like the trapped and pitiful creature he was. Kurt, undulating above him, had started to mewl, abs tightening as he tried to force his cock into his sub’s mouth, even when his hips began to fail.

Kurt loved having Blaine’s beautiful mouth to cum in, to violate, to desecrate. He loved walking down the red carpet with Blaine on his arm, knowing that men and women alike envied him and hated him for getting that honor. The feeling of their eyes on his sub, coveting something they would never have, made Kurt horny as fuck. These were some of the things Kurt thought about when he came down Blaine’s throat, or when he tied Blaine down and iced his balls, clipped his nipples and edged him till he cried. Blaine was Kurt’s to do with as he pleased. Blaine was an object for Kurt’s disposal, the way he was using him now.

But aside from that, more important than that, Kurt loved Blaine. This part of their relationship, the domination and the control, was a fraction of who they were, but it wasn’t the sum total. Blaine could decide tomorrow that he didn’t identify as a sub anymore, that he didn’t want to participate in BDSM, and Kurt would still love him.

Kurt would still devote his life to him.

The fact that Blaine did trust Kurt enough to submit to him, that he would agree to fulfill this need for him, made flooding Blaine’s mouth all the sweeter.

But it’s also why Kurt took great care to return the favor and suck Blaine dry when he didn’t really need to. Cats are fickle beasts. He could have just pulled off and crawled away, left Blaine on the bed to suffer his ruined orgasm alone.

That’s something Kurt had never done. He might consider that for next time.

Kurt climbed off Blaine’s body and collapsed beside him. He tugged on one arm, giving Blaine permission to let go of the sheet, and Blaine wound an arm around him.

“So, what do you think?” Kurt asked, but his tone implied that he knew Blaine’s answer already. “Does the tail stay, my love, or does it go?”

“Oh, it stays.” Blaine grabbed Kurt’s hips and pulled his Dom’s body on him. Kurt stretched out, shifting and uncurling in a way that made Blaine ready for a second round. He ran light fingertips down Kurt’s back, grabbing the tail when he reached it and tugging while Kurt began to purr, every yank unseating the plug just enough so that when Blaine let go, it popped back into place. Kurt straddled Blaine’s hips, creating a tighter seal, causing a more intense sensation of the plug shooting back in when Blaine let go. “You make one fucking sexy feline.”