Lisle's whimper is music to Gerlinde's ears.  It's a yielding, fine, excited sound.  It means what she's doing is working.  It means Lisle is changing more - learning more.  Gerlinde's hands tucked a bit tighter about the tense wax of Lisle's depending clitoris.<br/><br/>"You can cry, Lisle kitty." Gerlinde remarked smoothly, picking up one of the objects beside her.  Her other hand kept rubbing the menthol-coated expansion of Lisle's clitoris.  "You might not expect much mercy around here, but sometimes it helps.<br/><br/>"And I care."  She added, albeit bleakly.  Her hand raised to rub Lisle kitty's bottom, while the other brought the object up to fit onto that dangling, tingling bit of flesh:<br/><br/>The object was a soft, expandable leather sheath.  Little grains of iron inside could be made to move by remote, tingling and rubbing.  The sheath had to be screwed gently onto Lisle's clitoris, but the swelling within it found the leather to have a yield to it.  Gerlinde sealed it with a pinch of the open end around the base of Lisle's flesh.  The other end had a round little cat bell dangling from it, chiming happily with each tremor.<br/><br/>"There now.  Off the bed.  We're going to practice walking, then take you to relieve yourself."