Come, My Pet

by Keira Michelle Telford

  Pet tilts her head, questioning the invitation. It’s customary for companions to sit on the floor at their Mistresses feet. Then again, it’s also customary for a companion to be tethered, and Pet hasn’t seen her chain since Coralie adopted her.

  Coralie pats her lap again, repeating the offer. “Come on up.” She holds her arms open. “I want a cuddle.”

  For once in her life, Pet’s small stature proves beneficial. While most other companions wouldn’t fit comfortably in their Mistresses laps—not that they’d ever receive such an invitation to begin with—Pet is small enough and light enough to curl into Coralie’s arms, her head tucked on Coralie’s shoulder.

  “That’s better.” Coralie wraps one arm around Pet’s waist, stroking her legs with the other. “I like having you close.” She kisses the top of Pet’s head. “You make me so happy.”

  Brimming over with desire and adoration, Pet pushes her face against Coralie’s neck, her hand slipping from Coralie’s shoulder to rest above her heart.

  In that moment, something passes between them. Coralie gasps and clutches Pet’s hand, her heartbeat rising from a sedate sixty to almost a hundred. Caressing Pet’s head, holding her tight, she moves those long, scruffy bangs aside, tucking them behind her ear, then she leans in, whispering softly so that only Pet can hear …

  “Mieka.”

  Pet lifts up her head, locking eyes with Coralie, her irises shimmering and gleaming, brightness returning to them as a new bond forms.

  “Oh, my darling. My Pet.” Coralie’s eyes drop to Pet’s mouth, wanting nothing more than to taste those baby pink lips. “Kiss me.”

  Pet does just that. Their mouths meet, no reservation and no timidity. Hungry for intimacy, Coralie captures Pet’s lips with her own and flicks her tongue in between, her advance met with equal enthusiasm, their tongues battling for entry into each other’s mouths.

  In the midst of it all, Coralie drops her hand to Pet’s crotch, finding the stirrings of an erection and quickly massaging it to full rigidity. Then, she breaks the kiss.

  “I think we should go back to bed, don’t you?” She palms Pet’s expanding appendage. “Otherwise, they might have to call someone out to reupholster this sofa.” She lifts Pet up and deposits her on her feet, turning her in the direction of the door.

  Lightheaded, Pet sways from side to side, all the blood that should be in her brain now diverted below her waist. Coralie rises to steady her, but they don’t get to take a step.

  “What in the gods names do you think you’re doing?!” Diana swoops over to them, alerted to their lustful behavior by the same woman who called Pet impotent, but when she sees Pet’s burning, iridescent eyes, she backs down.

  “She cheated!” The envious Mistress accuses Coralie without missing a beat.

  “I did no such thing!” Coralie snarls back. “We were right here the whole time. How could I cheat in plain view of everyone?”

  Diana questions Sirena on that. “What were they doing?”

  Sirena shrugs. “Cuddling.”

  “Cuddling?” Diana pulls a face.

  “Yes, you know.” Coralie tugs Pet close to her, squeezing her erection to keep it firm. “It’s that thing you do when you really like someone and you want to show them how much they mean to you. Now, if you’ll excuse us both”—she grips Pet’s proud augmentation, showing Diana the prominent bulge in her pants—“we have a rather urgent matter to attend to.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Coralie pulls Pet into the bedroom, bombarding her with kisses. Staggering backwards toward the bed, she keeps her lips clamped over Pet’s, gripping Pet’s shirt in her hands. When she backs up against the bedpost, she slides her hands over Pet’s chest, fumbling for her belt.

  “I want you to fuck me,” she growls, tearing the belt away.

  Reengaging Pet’s mouth, she sucks hungrily on her tongue, ready to feel a pair of groping paws delving up her skirt. Instead, Pet’s kiss lacks passion. She’s reciprocating, but it’s weak, her hands resting limply on Coralie’s hips.

  She’s overwhelmed.

  Intimidated.

  Coralie can see the conflict in her eyes: desire strangled by fear.

  “I’m sorry.” She forces herself to drop into a lower gear. “Am I going too fast?” She takes a deep breath, licking the taste of Pet’s kisses off her lips. “I need to remind myself how young you are. You were poached by Mistress Isabelle on the day you were initiated into the coterie. You’ve only ever been with one woman, whereas I’ve … had experience.”

  Pet doesn’t mean to, but she winces, her reaction betraying some prior knowledge.

  “Did you hear anything about me before we met?” Coralie feels a faint twinge of shame. “Did you know my name?”

  Pet nods, unable to look Coralie in the eye.

  “Did you hear stories about me?” Coralie assumes.

  Pet shakes her head, touching a fingertip to the corner of her eye.

  “You saw me?” Coralie translates. “Where? Talk to me, Pet. You can now, and I want you to.” She slumps against the carved oak bedpost. “Where did you see me?”

  Pet clears her throat, preparing to speak for the first time in … she can’t remember.

  “I …” Her voice cracks and she coughs, her mouth suddenly dry. “You were invited up to the drawing room one night.” She hesitates. “To be with one of the other companions.”

  “Ah.” The twinge of shame blooms into full-on regret. “You saw me fuck.”

  “It was Brat.” Pet keeps her head angled down. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself, and I don’t want to disappoint you, that’s all.”

  “I can’t imagine that’s possible.” Coralie smiles reassuringly. “But let’s slow down.” She taps under Pet’s chin, requesting that she look up. “We’ll go at your pace, not mine.”

  Pet opens her mouth to say something, but Coralie puts a finger to her lips, silencing her.

  “Hush now, Pet.” She takes a step back, dropping her hands to her sides. “Explore me, and take your time. There are no limits now, and there’s nothing whatsoever to be afraid of.”

  Given free rein, Pet smothers her anxiety and places her hands on Coralie’s body, beginning at her waist and moving over her ribcage, up to the underside of her breasts. They’re more than a handful each—for her petite mitts at least—and she groans as she lifts them into her palms, feeling the weight of them.

  She needs more.

  Letting them go for the moment, she reaches for Coralie’s shirt buttons, waiting to receive a nod of approval before she forges on.

  “Go ahead,” Coralie urges her. “Undress me.”

  Her hands shaking, it takes Pet forever and a year to get halfway down, by which time she loses patience with herself and wrenches the shirt open, sending tiny plastic buttons scattering across the room.

  Pet fears a rebuke, but far from being angered, Coralie moans her appreciation for the momentary loss of decorum.

  “Keep going.” She shrugs the shirt off her shoulders, slinging it to the floor.

  Today, she’s wearing a bra, and Pet struggles with the front clasp.

  “Relax.” Coralie stays her hands, afraid that she’s about to destroy the tailor-made lingerie. “I need some of my clothes to make it through this unscathed.”

  After a brief pause to collect herself, Pet pops the clip on her first retry. Coralie’s breasts spill free, and she engulfs them with her hands, feeling two stiff nipples graze her palms.

  Watching her push them together then release them, letting them bounce, Coralie giggles.

  “Mine are bigger than Mistress Isabelle’s, huh? More fun to play with.”

  Pet nods, her eyes never leaving Coralie’s chest. They’re bigger, firmer, and altogether more delicious, and she rubs her thumbs over both erect nipples, teasing them harder.

  “Use your mouth, Pet.” Coralie wraps her hand around the back of Pet’s neck “Bite.”

  That’s not a command Pet needs to h
ear twice. Still kneading one breast, she sucks the other swollen nipple into her mouth and clamps her teeth around it, giving it a gentle tug.

  Her legs weak, Coralie clutches the bedpost for support. “Bed.” She forces Pet to stop suckling on her. “Let me get into bed before I fall down, love.”

  Remembering that Coralie has other assets yet to be bared, Pet curls a finger around the waistband of her skirt and follows it around till she finds a zipper. Expecting to discard the garment and find nothing beneath, she’s surprised to discover that Coralie’s wearing undies.

  Coralie laughs, shimmying them down to her ankles. “I can be modest sometimes.” She kicks off her shoes and props her foot up on the bed, about to roll one of her stockings down.

  Pet stops her. Enjoying the way Coralie looks in the hosiery, she runs her fingers up the fine silk, relishing this moment.

  “You like?” Coralie parts her legs a few inches. “If you keep going, you might find something you’ll like even more.”

  Pet pulls her hand away.

  “Boo.” Coralie pouts. “Are you teasing me, Pet?” She yanks the duvet off the bed and lies down. “I thought that was my job.”

  Standing at the foot of the four-poster, Pet removes her clothes in a flash and tosses them to the floor on top of Coralie’s. With as much composure as she can muster, she then creeps up the bed on all fours and positions herself above her new lover, swiftly resuming her sucking, pinching, biting, and kneading.

  After fifteen minutes, her sex flooded and throbbing, Coralie plucks Pet’s hand off one of her breasts and moves it down to her core, placing it directly on her mound. “My cunt is weeping for your touch.”

  Hints don’t come less subtle than that.

  Pet tickles her fingers through Coralie’s curls, seeking out the hidden pink below. There, she finds Coralie hot and wet, her labia engorged with lust, and she pushes inside. Her middle digit slips into Coralie’s slit and she swirls it around, feeling the soft, pulpy flesh of her insides.

  “More,” Coralie demands.

  Pet adds another finger.

  “More,” Coralie insists again.

  Though it feels impossibly tight, Pet eases in a third finger, groping her until …

  She stops, her expression pained.

  “What is it?” Coralie props herself up on her elbows, her head spinning with endorphins, her body on the brink of an orgasm. “You nearly had me.”

  Keeping her fingers embedded, Pet rocks back on her heels and shows Coralie the state of her swollen anatomy. It’s leaking all over the bed sheets, ready to burst.

  “Oh, my love …” Coralie brushes her finger against the tip, wetting it with Pet’s eagerness. “You know what you ought to do with that now, don’t you?”

  Pet has no idea.

  Yearning for it, Coralie wraps her legs around Pet’s waist. “Fuck me, Pet.” She writhes on the sheets. “I need it now.”

  She closes her eyes and waits, but nothing happens. When she opens her eyes again, she finds Pet steeling herself for the task of penetration. The young companion is grimacing like she’s about to drive a stake through someone’s heart, her tongue pinched between her teeth in deep concentration, all hint of pleasure absent from her fraught expression.

  “Whoa.” Coralie places her hands on Pet’s chest, preventing her from driving forward. “Why are you making that face? Talk to me again, Pet.”

  Pet hangs her head. “I … I’ve never …”

  “You’ve never had sex?”

  “Not like this.” Fearing inadequacy, Pet softens. “I’ve used my mouth and fingers, but never my … thing-um-bob.”

  “You’re a virgin,” Coralie whispers, amazed.

  “Does that disappoint you?” Pet expects the worst.

  “Oh, gods, no!” Coralie’s eyes gleam. “I’m surprised, that’s all. I mean, I know you’re young—so deliciously young—and I’d considered that you might not be as experienced as some of the other companions, but I never expected …” She fawns over Pet’s body. “How could that beastly Mistress Isabelle have had you to herself every night and not absolutely ravaged you whenever she had the chance?”

  “She did.” Pet sighs. “At least, she tried to on moon nights, but I couldn’t … and my poking thing wouldn’t …” She makes an ‘up’ motion with her hand, indicating her inability to generate an erection for her former Mistress. “She thought me defective.”

  “Well”—Coralie grins, reaching between them to grip Pet’s sticky pole in her hand, coaxing it to fatten again—“we know differently now, don’t we?”

  “You seem to inspire the opposite problem in me.” Pet gawks at Coralie’s nudity. “I haven’t been able to keep it down since we met. You gave me my first stiffening.”

  “I’m glad it was me.” Coralie pushes her onto her back. “But that must mean Mistress Isabelle never tended to your physical needs.”

  “Tended to them how?” Pet frowns.

  “Like this.” Coralie straddles her, fondling and kissing her small but perfectly-formed breasts, pausing only to look up and gauge her reaction. “Or how about this …” She kisses her way down Pet’s belly.

  Wriggling lower, she drops a kiss on the underside of Pet’s priapus.

  And another.

  Another.

  She works her way from the root all the way up the full length of Pet’s eight-inch shaft. When she gets to the crown, she dips back down, running the tip of her tongue along the path of her kisses. Reaching the crown again, she swirls her tongue around the head, causing a bead of pre-fuck to appear.

  “Is that for me?” Coralie laps it up, wrapping her lips completely around the tip.

  “No, no, no!” Pet panics, her hands flailing around Coralie’s head, not daring to pull her away, but so desperately wanting her to stop.

  “What is it?” Coralie releases Pet’s appendage with a sloppy pop. “You don’t like it?”

  “No, it’s … you shouldn’t have to …” Pet’s brain stumbles over all the words she wants to say, in the end reducing the problem to its simplest form. “You’re my Mistress.”

  “And?” Coralie sits astride Pet’s crotch. “Do you not think it proper for a Mistress to please her companion in that way?” She pins Pet’s augmentation in the valley of her sex. “Do you think it demeans me? Do you think it undermines my authority if the focus is on your pleasure instead of my own?” She leans forward, whispering in Pet’s ear. “That’s bullshit.”

  Still, Pet looks conflicted.

  “My darling, Mistress Isabelle didn’t treat you well.” Coralie mashes her breasts to Pet’s chest. “She didn’t understand what it means to be a Mistress, but I do.” She grinds herself on Pet’s erection. “I want to take care of you in all ways. I want to make you happy as much as I want you to make me happy. It’s all about mutual pleasure, Pet.”

  “But—”

  “Sshhh.” Coralie snatches up her hand, kissing the tip of her thumb. “Think about how good this would feel elsewhere on your body.” She sinks her mouth around the digit, simulating fellatio, first taking an inch, then more.

  Gradually, she increases speed and intensity until she’s sucking on it furiously. Pet starts bucking up into her, desperate for stimulation, but Coralie lifts her hips, raising her crotch and withdrawing contact altogether, waiting for …

  “Please,” Pet begs hoarsely, frustrated that she’s humping nothing but air.

  Coralie pulls her mouth off Pet’s thumb. “Please what?” She wants her to say it.

  “Please use your mouth.”

  “Be more specific. You want me to use my mouth where? Here?” She pecks Pet’s cheek.

  Pet giggles. “No.”

  “Then where? Maybe here?” She bites and kisses Pet’s neck.

  “Na-uh.” Pet squirms beneath her.

  “How about here?” Coralie engulfs one of Pet’s nipples in her mouth.

  “Mmm, nope.”

  “So tell me.” Coralie peers up at her lover.
“Where?”

  “Please suck my thing.” Pet’s voice is so quiet it’s barely audible.

  “Say again?” Coralie cups her ear, pretending she didn’t hear. “I don’t think I heard you.”

  Being overly diffident, Pet sweeps her bangs down in front of her face, shielding herself, never imagining in her wildest thoughts that she would ever be asked to say these words in the presence of her Mistress. “Please suck my thing-um!”

  “Is that what you want, Pet?” Coralie circles her finger around the smooth head of Pet’s priapus. “You want me to lick you here?”

  Pet whines, writhing beneath her, incapable of words.

  Deciding she’s been tormented enough, Coralie rewards Pet with her mouth. She swallows as much as she can, sucking on it till Pet’s ready to come before pulling back and letting the imminent threat pass. This, she repeats five times, and after a while, Pet catches on: Coralie’s not going to let her come until she begs for it. Coralie is in control.

  “Please,” Pet implores her the next time she eases off. “Let me come.”

  Her eyes closed, she waits for the return of Coralie’s mouth, but instead, her vestal augmentation is enveloped in heat and forced into something much tighter. Yowling, she looks down, finding Coralie impaled on her.

  “You’re not a virgin anymore, Pet.” Coralie raises up and slides back down, lowering herself slowly over the shaft so that Pet can watch it disappear within her. “How does it feel?”

  Pet’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Having once witnessed Coralie with Brat in the drawing room—an energetic fuck with Coralie on all fours, being rammed into from behind—this isn’t at all what she imagined sex would be like. Coralie’s movements are languid and unhurried, calm and tender.

  “Do you like making love with me, Pet?” Coralie coos, working herself on the thick rod buried inside her.

  Yes, Pet thinks—that’s the difference! This is lovemaking, not fucking. It’s a glorious thought, and one that threatens to tip her over the edge. Almost immediately, she feels a distinctive pressure in her abdomen and her face creases with tension.

  Understanding her problem, Coralie slows to a near stop. “It’s all right. This is your first time, and I’ve been teasing you dreadfully. Just let yourself go.” She picks up the pace again. “Whenever you want to.”