Kitty is who I am. I’m his kitty. Although W was the only handler of my pony persona, Onyx, and Topaz, my wild pony, only came out to play with Adam, neither of them belonged to their handlers the way kitty does to V. Onyx and Topaz existed outside of their relationships with W and Ad, but kitty doesn’t. She is part and parcel of our D/s connection, born of it and existing only inside of it. I had always been a pony. From my earliest memories, I was a wild, untamed pony, or a beautiful, prancing show pony. Onyx had been there all the time, W just gave me the permission to bring her out, and she allowed him to be her handler. And Topaz, well, Topaz just showed up one day to play with Adam. She remained wild and free. But there is no kitty without V. Kitty didn’t exist before V found her. Before he owned her.
Kitty is an endearment. “Good morning, kitty,” he says every morning on our way to work, and it is a phrase filled with love. “Good, kitty,” he writes, and I feel his pleasure in me. “I love my kitty deliriously!” he says, just before we get off the phone, and his voice is warm with love and longing. “I hope my kitty has sweet kitty dreams,” he writes, just before bed, and I am reminded that though I am not with him in the flesh, I am with him, and he with me, in our hearts.
Kitty is a way to direct my attention in a certain way. It’s in his tone. The word is the same, but there is a warning in it. There is the “be careful what you say/do next,” edge in it. Sometimes there it is an admonishment to bring my attention back to where it should be (on him), or to direct my attention away from where it shouldn’t be. Sometimes it is a sharp rebuke, a verbal palm out to stop and listen, or to modify my behavior.
Kitty is imbued with his Ownership of me. “My kitty.”
Need I say more?