Author's Note: Thanks to Bethany (Handcuffgirl) for her edits and suggestions.


Carla closed a one-inch wide, rhinestone-covered collar around her neck, completing her costume. She spun the collar so that the leash ring was centered in front then inspected herself in the mirror. Maybe she was going a little overboard... but what the hell, you're only young once!

The girl in the cat costume that looked back at Carla from the mirror positively radiated sex appeal. A sleeveless black leotard, cut low down the chest and back, hugged her every curve. The shiny black spandex reflected light in such a way as to draw extra attention to the curviest parts: her boobs, hips, and butt. That butt, like her breasts, was only partially covered by the extremely high cut legs of the leotard. The rest of her butt and her long legs were covered in dark fishnet tights. Those tights didn't reflect light the same way the spandex did, but she figured that the desired male attention would be drawn to her shapely legs anyway.

Pawing at the air in a cute kitty gesture, Carla enjoyed the way her fingers looked in the elbow-length gloves that matched her leotard. She turned sideways and used those fingers to lift and drop the tail that extended out of her costume from just above her ass. The two-foot-long cloth appendage dropped back into place between her butt cheeks, causing an involuntary clench and a somewhat nervous giggle. Was this costume going too far?

Carla was recently single and back on the dating scene after a long and rather stuffy relationship with an older man that should have been ended long ago. She felt as though her twenties were ticking away and she wanted to get out and have fun while she was still young. The invitation to a costume party from a friend-of-a-friend sounded like a great opportunity. She steeled her reserve and told herself that lots of girls dressed in sexy outfits for costume parties. Her costume would only stand out because she looked so irresistibly cute, what with the little black cat ears that were clipped to the top of her head and black nose and whiskers she had painted on her face.

Wearing a black leather, rhinestone-covered collar seemed a little bit over the top, but it did match the costume perfectly, and it only made sense for a nice domestic cat like her to wear identification. Of course, the only word on the tag that hung from the front ring of the collar was "kitty," and even that was often blocked by the little bell that jingled whenever she moved. She would only give out her real name to nice boys, and only if they treated her well.

Slipping on a pair of black flats and a big coat, Carla took a deep breath and headed out. The guy hosting the party, Brad something-or-other, happened to live in a house that was only a few blocks away from her apartment. She could just walk over and didn't have to worry about drinking too much to drive.

When she arrived, the party was already in full swing. She didn't see the friend-of-a-friend who had invited her, or anyone else she knew for that matter, but that was fine with her. She was there to meet new people, and a girl dressed like her really didn't need an invitation or an introduction.

As she had expected, there were other girls in sexy costumes, though none had gone quite as far. A witch costume had a skirt with a jagged edge that often exposed the black panties worn beneath it, and a tavern wench costume had blouse that just barely kept its wearer's nipples covered. None of the other costumes, however, went as far as Carla's cat costume in displaying both legs and tits. Not surprisingly, the amount of attention it drew was proportionate to the amount of skin and curves it revealed.

The cute kitty had no problems striking up conversations with boys, so she could afford to be picky. After quickly ending conversations with a rather dorky looking Harry Potter and then a fairly annoying George Bush, she worked her way to the backyard and struck up a much more enjoyable conversation with a hunk dressed as a construction worker. His orange vest left his big, strong arms bare, and it didn't do much to hide his barrel-shaped chest. He didn't sound like the brightest tool in the shed, but he had a great laugh and a laid back attitude that seemed perfect for the kind of fling Carla was looking for.

An eruption of laughter from inside the house drew the attention of the group out in the yard. Carla wanted to continue the conversation, but the construction worker wanted to go see what was going on. In the large living room, they found the whole group packed in as the host took pictures of all the people in costume. As each picture was taken, it was wirelessly displayed on a large flat screen, giving everyone present a great view of the shots that really were quite funny.

The idea was to match each person with something in the house that fit their costume. The tavern wench that Carla had seen earlier must have just finished. She was carrying four big mugs of beer in her right hand and three in her left. Another mug of beer was spilled all over the floor beneath her, but no one seemed to care because the host had snapped a close-up shot right at the moment that she was dropping the mug.

The big picture on the flat screen showed a hilarious expression on her face of mixed horror and bemusement as the mug slipped away from her left pinky. The angle of the shot had also nicely captured her largely exposed bosom, which had clearly been bouncing upwards from the gasp the girl must have let out. It was a hot picture, and quite funny, and Carla couldn't help but laugh along with everyone else.

Next up was the witch with the ridiculously short skirt. Someone had the bright idea that they could make it look as if she was flying on a broom if they could hang the broom with some invisible fishing line. The witch looked apprehensive, but she was assured that four loops of fifty-pound line would more than cover her weight. She started off with a modest side-saddle position, then was soon encouraged to straddle the broom and really get into it. With one long, hose-covered leg hanging over either side of the broom handle, she certainly looked a lot sexier.

Someone even found a fan so that the witch's long black hair would be blown backwards, making it look as though she was flying through the air. Carla worried that the position on the broom must be fairly uncomfortable, with all of the girl's weight being supported by her crotch on the slender rod. If anything, though, the expression shown on the big screen made it look as though the witch was having a great time.

Another few costume shots were taken, including one with George Bush reading a book upside-down and another with Harry Potter practicing some spell on the host's Basset Hound. They had started going roughly in order around the room, so it was going to be Carla's turn for a picture soon. She always got a little nervous about being the center of attention in a group. She was more comfortable talking with just one or a couple people at a time, so thought about ducking back outside before they got to her. Given the number of people in the room, however, it didn't look as though there was anyone left outside. Anyway, she didn't actually know any of these people, and she had come to show off her body, right?

The construction worker finished posing with a large sledge hammer, flexing his big biceps in the process. Carla was next, so people started calling out ideas for the kitty's pose.

"She could curl up in a ball by the fireplace," someone suggested

"How about lapping milk from bowl?" someone else asked, getting a bunch of laughs.

"No wait, I've got it," a third person chimed in before the milk was brought out. "Check out this pet carrier I found in the hallway. I bet it would be just the right size for our kitty, and the black plastic would totally go with the costume."

Everyone in the room immediately agreed that this was the perfect setup for the kitty's picture. Everyone, that is, except for the kitty herself. The pet carrier was probably intended for the host's Basset Hound, which was not a terribly large dog. Even for the dog, the carrier looked like it was sized too small, and it would definitely be too small for a human. Carla had always had a fear of confined spaces, and on top of that she thought that getting into a small cage would be a little too kinky given her state of dress.

She tried to argue that the carrier was clearly too small for her. Unfortunately, the whole group had really gotten behind the idea, and started chanting for her to give it a try. Carla thought about just leaving, but then the construction worker gave her a little nudge. If she ditched out, she would surely lose any chance of getting with him, so she finally gave in and agreed to at least try it out and see if she would fit.

Kneeling down on the floor, Carla decided that the carrier was definitely sized too small even for its intended canine occupant. The low, rectangular-shaped box looked like it might be just wide enough for her hips, just long enough for her body if she folded her legs and arms underneath her, and just tall enough if she maintained a very tight kneeling position. The edges of the carrier were made of a stiff, shiny black plastic and were connected with thin metal bars that formed the walls. The sturdy contraption certainly wasn't going to flex in any direction to give her any additional space.

The carrier had a standard door, with one of the smaller ends of the box swinging open on hinges. Carla knew that she would not have any chance of turning around inside the small space. She decided to back in so that she would be able to get out easier. This required her to kneel low to the ground and scoot backwards, wiggling her spandex and fishnet covered ass into the carrier. She was surely giving everyone behind her quite a show and was definitely drawing more attention than she had intended when she initially donned her costume. She was committed at that point, however, and didn't feel as though she could back out. Instead she had to keep backing in!

Sure enough, the carrier was just big enough for the costumed girl, as long as she stayed low on her knees and elbows and ducked her head down. As she was craning her head awkwardly around to try to see if there was any more space left behind her, she heard the carrier's door click closed in front of her. She whipped her head up, knocking her cheek against the door, just in time to hear a cheer go up from the crowd of people around her.

"You made it!" said her construction worker pal, who must have been the one who closed the door. "I have to say that I didn't think it was possible. You're even more flexible than I thought!"

Carla was not at all happy about having that door closed. It made the space feel much tighter and more confining. Heck, she wasn't happy about being in the carrier in the first place. More than ever, her body was truly on display. The thin metal bars didn't hide a thing, but they did a fine job of keeping her in the low kneeling position with very little wiggle room.

Click.

With all the embarrassment of being inside a pet carrier, Carla had forgotten that the whole point was to be photographed. She glanced up towards the host and his camera just in time for the next shot. Behind the host, she saw her own image magnified. Her face displayed a cute mixture of surprise and embarrassment, made all the more adorable by her little cat ears, painted on whiskers, and black nose. She had to admit that it was a good picture, even if it did heighten her embarrassment when all of the onlookers let out a joint, "Awwwww," and started gushing about how cute the kitty was.

With the picture taken, Carla hoped that her little ordeal would be over. Just as with the other costume set-ups, however, the host wanted to be thorough.

"Hold that pose," he said, as if she had a choice. "I want to get a few shots from the side and back."

Carla looked up at the big flat screen as the picture of her from the side was displayed. There she was, kneeling low to the ground, her whole scantily-clad body on display behind the thin bars. That was the view that everyone at the party was enjoying. The picture from the side emphasized how tightly she was crammed into the carrier, with her head right up against the door and her butt pressed against the back. In Carla's mind, the picture also emphasized just how subservient her position was, with her back pushed down by the bars that formed the top of the carrier and her arms and legs folded compactly beneath her.

The thought of everyone's eyes on her body, dressed the way she was and holding that submissive pose, unwittingly began to turn Carla on. She willed the host to hurry up and get his last shot, but then thought about what she must look like from behind. Was the host really going to be so brazen as to take a close up shot of her ass? She recalled the other pictures he had taken, of the tavern wench's tits and of the witch's legs. He certainly didn't have any reservations with those other girls. A shot of her ass would fit right in.

Carla considered bailing from the whole situation, popping the carrier's door open and getting out before her ass could be memorialized by the host's camera. She knew that would cause a big stink. Everyone in the room would complain that she was spoiling the fun and would try to convince her to get back in. That would be embarrassing too, and wouldn't be worth the trouble just to avoid one more picture. She told herself to breathe steadily and think about the fact that the ordeal would be over soon.

As the host walked around behind her, Carla tried to shift a bit in an attempt to make her position at least slightly more decent. Unfortunately, there was no room to move. Her ass was stuck where it was, pressing upwards and back into the bars of the carrier. Just thinking about her ass, and all the people in the room who were focusing on it, was turning her on more and more.

Click.

Carla looked up to the flat screen to see just how bad the rear view was, only to find that it was far more embarrassing than she had imagined. Her bent position had pulled the spandex of her leotard tightly up into the crack of her ass, splitting her two cheeks and leaving even more skin under the sole protection of her fishnet tights. To make matters worse, the flesh of her ass was pushed into the bars of the carrier and was squeezing slightly around those bars. She wasn't flabby back there by any means, but she did have some padding, and that padding was being displayed more obscenely than she ever would have willingly allowed.

As the whole party applauded the picture of her ass, Carla knew that it was definitely time to end this little photo-shoot and get out of the pet carrier. She maneuvered her right hand up towards the door of the carrier and reached for the release mechanism. The hound carrier, however, had been designed specifically to prevent crafty dogs from being able to open the door from the inside. While the rest of the walls were formed by simple metal bars, the section of door behind the latch mechanism was a solid plastic plate. The metal bars around that plate were closer together than the rest of the bars, which meant that Carla couldn't slip her fingers through them. The bars were spaced wider further away from the latch, but not wide enough for her to get her whole hand out and around to the latch.

After struggling for a couple moments, Carla had to admit to herself that there was absolutely no way she would be able to reach the door's latch. She was, in fact, quite unable to release herself from the pet carrier. At that moment, the hard plastic and metal bars ceased to be a pet carrier and in her mind became a cage. She was stuck inside that cage, dressed like a slut and kneeling like a slave, until someone else freed her.

Click.

Carla glanced up to see another enlarged picture of her ass on the big screen, this one from a slightly different angle. She looked around and realized that everyone in the room was so focused on her ass, and the pictures being taken of it, that no one had noticed her attempts to reach the door's latch. None of them even understood that she was trapped, that she was no longer playing along but was a prisoner who wanted to get out.

To Carla's great frustration, thinking of herself as a prisoner was stoking her arousal more and more. She worried that she might have to ask someone to let her out, which was going to be embarrassing enough. If anyone noticed that she was getting turned on by the whole situation, it was going to be infinitely worse.

"Hey," someone called from behind her, "she's a black cat, so we should get the witch in on these pictures, right?"

Carla was definitely ready for her part of the photo-shoot to be over, but she assumed that joint pictures with the witch would be done outside the cage. She figured she would just wait for someone to open the door, and then she could graciously decline to have any more pictures taken. To her dismay, the witch walked over and sat down on top of the pet carrier, draping her legs over the side and clearly getting ready to be photographed with the kitty still inside.

"Umm," Carla said, "I actually think I'm done with these pictures, can we call it a wrap?"

"Wait, wait," the host said, "don't get out yet, this is just too perfect. Let me get a few shots of the two of you first."

The trapped kitty did not want to wait, but she also did not want to admit that she was actually trapped. It was a catch-22 that she struggled to find a solution to as the first picture was taken. Looking up at the screen, she had to admit that she and the witch made a damn-sexy pair. The black of the witch's dress went quite well with the black kitty leotard and the black plastic of the pet carrier. The witch's long legs, covered in black hose, only highlighted the even more sultry black fishnets that covered Carla's legs. The witch also had her hand placed on top of the cage in a very possessive manner, which made the trapped girl feel even more like a pet and drove her arousal still higher.

All of a sudden, Carla's whole body spasmed as she felt something stroke the side of her body. The witch had reached her fingers through the bars and was petting her cat, to the delight of the whole party. In her hyper-sensitive state, that simple touch sent shock waves throughout her body and caused an involuntary jerk.

"Easy there kitty," the witch soothed as she continued to stroke her pet, generating guffaws of laughter from the crowd and a rapid series of clicks from the host's camera.

Carla's arousal was spiraling out of control. She knew she had to get out of the cage quickly and splash some cold water on her face. Or, better yet, she could find somewhere private to deal with her arousal. Regardless, the first step was to get the damn door open, and she no longer thought she could afford to wait for the photo-shoot to end on its own. Everyone was having far too good of a time staring at the bodies of the two sexy women and the pictures that were being taken to move on to the next person anytime soon. Maybe, Carla thought, there might at least be a way to minimize her embarrassment.

"Pssst," Carla whispered up at the witch sitting on top of her cage, trying to talk quietly enough so that no one else would hear. "I'm really ready to get out of this carrier. Could you open the door?"

The witch looked down at her with a twinkle in her eye that Carla could not quite place. "Why?" she asked. "Can't you open the door yourself?"

"No, I can't," Carla was forced to admit. "So please open it!"

The twinkle in the witch's eye got bigger, and Carla decided that it was definitely not a good sign. Maybe the witch was jealous that the kitty costume was sexier than her own. Or shit, for all she knew the witch was dating that construction worker she'd been flirting with, and now had it out for her.

The witch let out a loud cackle, then announced, "Hey everyone, it turns out that our kitty here is actually trapped inside her carrier. She can't get out on her own!"

Maybe it was all the beer that had been consumed at the party, or maybe it was the way the witch framed the situation, but to Carla's dismay the whole group agreed that it was funny that the kitty was trapped within the pet carrier. Their laughter grew even louder as she tried again, and in vain, to squeeze her fingers through the bars of the cage and reach the latch, desperately hoping to escape the embarrassment of the situation. The host captured all those attempts on camera, making sure that everyone could see the adorable helplessness that was written plainly across her face.

The witch began stroking her kitty on the butt, making mock soothing sounds that generated even louder laughter from the crowd. The combination of those touches to her ass, the humiliation of being laughed at by so many strangers, and the continued helplessness of her situation, drove Carla's arousal to new heights. She really needed to get free and get away from all these people, and made a desperate plea to the host to open the door. Unfortunately, the mix of emotions in her voice gave the request the tenor of a playful moan, and the host just laughed and told her to wait another second while he got a couple more pictures.

The camera was back at her rear, capturing the witch's hand as it stroked up and down Carla's fishnet covered ass. The metal bars of the cage were apparently spaced further apart at the back of the cage, giving the witch much more access to reach through than Carla had at the front of the cage. The whole situation was just astoundingly unfair, and in Carla's emotional state she couldn't help but let a little whine slip past her lips.

"No whining, kitty!" the witch scolded, driving the point home with a sharp pinch to her pet's right butt cheek.

The sensation of the pinch sent a whole new shockwave of emotion through Carla's body. Her helpless ass was not only the center of attention for every set of eyes in the room, it was also getting stroked and pinched and she had no way to dodge or avoid the attention. That didn't stop her from trying to wiggle away, which didn't get her anywhere, but did draw another rebuke from the sexy witch sitting above her.

"And keep still in there!" the witch commanded, driving this point home by pulling the kitty's tale out through the bars of the cage and giving it a couple sharp yanks.

To the audience, the tail pulling was hilarious. To Carla, it was a completely different matter. That tail was firmly attached the back of her costume, and the angle of the tugs meant that every ounce of pull was transmitted directly to the fabric that was pressed tightly against her crotch. In her already highly-aroused state, those tugs against her sensitive regions were all it took to launch her over the orgasmic edge. Her body shook from head to toe. She involuntarily grabbed her crotch and let out a series of loud, husky moans.

The display was unmistakable. Nobody in the room mistook it for anything but what it was: a full-blown orgasm. A handful of guys laughed and cheered, but far more people were aghast, especially the women.

"C'mon!" someone shouted. "That's way over the line!"

"You're disgusting!" someone else called

Carla hung her head in shame, as much as she was able, but then looked up as she saw that a heavy blanket was being thrown over her cage. Her world went black, which was rather scary, but at least it blocked the crowd's view of her body and the unintentional spectacle she was making.

"This kitty clearly needs some time to cool down," a voice said from outside Carla's dark prison.

She felt her cage get lifted up and carried away. As the glow of her sexual explosion began to fade, the full impact of the humiliating situation hit her. She had just orgasmed in a cage in front of a large group of strangers! How could she ever live that down?

The mortified girl stayed quiet in her cage as she was carried some distance and then set down on a cool cement floor. She guessed that she had just been deposited inside a garage, and was glad that she would be released out of view from most of the crowd. After being set down, however, she heard the footsteps start to walk away.

"Hey, c'mon," she said, trying unsuccessfully not to sound whiny. "Let me out!"

"Sorry girl," said an unknown male voice. "You clearly need a time out."

With that, Carla heard a door close and knew that she had been left alone. She wanted nothing more than to slink away from the party and never see any of the partygoers again in her life. Instead, she remained trapped in the stupid dog cage, just as helpless as before to free herself or even shift around much from her kneeling position.

Through the bars, she was able to slowly pull the blanket off her cage. That allowed her to confirm that she was indeed in a garage, though the knowledge didn't help her one bit. The dim light in the windowless space was just enough to show that there were no tools within hand's reach that might help her out of her predicament. She was stuck there until someone decided to come let her out.

The embarrassed girl thought about calling for help. She remembered, however, that the garage was separate from the house. In between the two, rather loud music was still playing in the yard. There was little chance that anyone would be able to hear her even from right outside the garage, let alone all the way inside the house. For the time being, Carla decided that instead of embarrassing herself yet further by screaming her head off, she would just kneel quietly in her cage, obediently accepting the punishment for her actions.

"Hey dude," Sam said to his friend. "I totally forgot about that girl we left in the garage. Shit, is she still in there?"

"Nah," Sam's friend replied, "I checked in there a while ago and the place was empty. Someone else must have let her out."

The friends didn't spend any more time worrying about who might have freed the kitty from her cage. There were a lot of people at the party, and it didn't really matter who had done the deed. Anyway, they had to get going, so headed out without another care for the cute kitty.

Later, when things were winding down, the host, Brad, went to get some garbage bags from his garage. He came back with a worried look on his face. "Has anyone seen my car?" he called out to the people who remained.

Nobody had, and nobody knew who might have taken it. After calling everyone he could think of, Brad had to conclude that his nearly new Grand Cherokee had been stolen from his garage, right out from under the noses of a whole group of his friends. He also had to admit to the cops, when they came to make the report, that he had probably left his keys right on the dashboard, thinking that the vehicle was safe inside his garage. The cops weren't happy about that, and they also weren't happy that Brad couldn't give them a full list of the people who had attended the party, since many folks were friends of friends and had been invited by others.

If the thought crossed anyone's mind to tell the cops about the girl in the cat costume who had been locked in a cage inside the garage, they apparently decided not to bring it up. The cops were already pretty unhappy with the sloppy situation, and certainly wouldn't have taken kindly to that additional information. They told Brad that his type of vehicle was a hot commodity on the black market, and that given the lack of any leads, he shouldn't expect to get it back.

Later that night, Brad did think about the girl in the kitty costume and wondered whether she had been the one who had stolen his car, possibly in some uncalled-for act of revenge. He tried to figure out who she was, but none of his friends knew her. No one even seemed to know who had let her out of that cage.

Out of curiosity, he went out to his garage and was vexed yet again to find his dog carrier missing. He wondered if that bitch had stolen both his car and his carrier. It really pissed him off that the skank might have crashed his party, strutted her slutty costume around in front of his friends, performed that massive orgasm in front of everyone, and then stolen all his stuff!

Of course, there was another possibility. Someone else might have gotten into the garage, found a sexy woman locked in a cage next to a big SUV with the keys left in it. It would have been a simple matter for that someone to take off with both the car and the girl, without anyone being the wiser. Brad, however, preferred not to think about that possibility, and decided to just let the whole thing drop. His car was insured and the dog carrier wasn't all that expensive. No real harm done.