"I can't believe you two."
He was standing over them, face stern, eyes hard, arms crossed. They stared back, frozen where he had found them.
It was Friday, but a lazy day. They had slept late, had a leisurely breakfast. He had some errands to run, so he gave his kittens some tasks and told them he would be back in a few hours, and they could go into town that evening.
Of course, he had just gotten into town when he realized he had left some papers he needed at home.
Damn
. So, he had to turn around and drive back.
He had been gone about forty-five minutes. Since he was only going to run inside and back out, he parked in the driveway rather than the garage and entered through the side hall. But when he passed the door to the kittens' playroom, he stopped short.
Those little minxes
, he thought. They were active, but definitely weren't doing their chores.
The playroom, as they called it, was large and airy, with plenty of light. The French doors opened onto the patio and pool. To one side was the large, comfortable bed the kittens shared when they were good. Against another wall were the two cages for when they weren't. Their food dishes were side by side nearby, although he had let them have breakfast in bed with him this morning. There was a sofa, a low table, and boxes for their toys and other belongings. The kittens had a double bathroom, with large vanities for doing their hair and makeup, and plenty of closet space for their clothes, not that they usually wore any in the house. The temperature was kept perfect for them, and the thick carpets made it comfortable for them to crawl around as well as walk.
He watched them now as they played. Taco was lying back on the sofa, Churro half on top of her. They were kissing languorously, one of Taco's hands was reaching up to Churro's breast, the other in Churro's hair. Churro's hand was rubbing Taco's pussy, making her squirm. Then Churro moved down onto her knees on the floor between Taco's legs. Taco's head arched back--her red collar clearly visible--as Churro began licking her clit, sucking on it, and running her hands over the glistening lips. From behind, he had a perfect view of Churro's ass and tight, pink pussy. How well he knew those pussies. Churro's had a dense, musky smell and positively gushed when she was aroused. Taco's scent was lighter, sweeter, and her clit was a little more exposed. They both fitted so tightly around his cock. Yes, he knew every bit of those pussies, just as he knew every other bit of their delectable bodies and--more important--the cues and words that could bring them maximum arousal.
Something else he knew, he thought as he watched them, were their mouths. Those lips and tongues. He had taught them to suck, and lick, and swallow, and now they were experts at pleasing his cock. They could lick fast or slow, kiss gently or suck hard, lick or fondle his balls. Though they couldn't
quite
take every inch yet--Churro was ahead there--they were close, and when he gave them his cum, they lapped it up eagerly.
As he watched, Taco, raised herself into a more sitting position, lifting Churro by the black collar that matched her hair. Taco reached down beside the sofa and picked up a blue vibrator, one of the stronger ones. She reached it up her mouth and sucked on it, then brought it down between Churro's legs. It could have them both cumming in minutes, he knew, but right now he wasn't going to allow that. That was when he stepped into the room and spoke.
Now they were staring at him, panting with arousal heightened by fear. The vibrator was buzzing softly in Taco's hand.
"When I give you chores to do, I expect you to do them." They knew not to speak.
"Taco," he said, "I told you to practice your blowjobs. Using your dildo." Taco lowered her head, but still looked up at him.
"And you," he said to Churro, "you were supposed to shave; you let your pussy get prickly. And you both were supposed to tidy up your playroom." He didn't have to look around at the scattered clothes, dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, and other playthings he had gotten them.
"Come here."
They jumped up and stood side-by-side, hands behind their backs, eyes looking down.
Damn
, he thought,
they really are fine
.
He reached down and grabbed a wet, dripping snatch in each hand. "Who do these pussies belong to?"
"They belong to you, Daddy," they said in unison.
"That's right. They belong to ME. And whose permission do you need to touch them?"
"Yours, Daddy."
"Apparently you need to be reminded of that."
He put a hand on the back of each of their necks and walked them ahead of him into the front hall. Here was a long table, currently bare. He stood one of them at each end and bent them over, facing; their breasts and bellies pushed into the cold surface. Their faces were inches apart. "When you get in trouble together, you get punished together," he said. "Hold hands." They reached out and grasped each other's hands.
