Offering up more kisses, she paints invisible patterns on Pet’s skin, her fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake. First, she makes circuits around Pet’s breasts, arousing her nipples without ever pawing on them directly. Moving lower, she tickles Pet’s ribs and makes her squirm. Finally, she splays her hand out over Pet’s stomach, her electric touch causing goose bumps to prick her young lover’s skin.
“Stop.” Pet whimpers.
“Why?” Coralie sucks one of Pet’s nipples into her mouth, directing her magic there. “Am I turning you on?” Her hand makes the final trek to Pet’s core, cupping her sex.
All seems to be going well, but then Pet panics. Desperate to prevent Coralie from investigating the core of her femininity, the petrified brunette flails and kicks her legs, accidentally striking her Mistress in the chest and knocking her backwards off the bed. As Coralie hits the floor with a yelp, Pet scrambles to her feet and flees to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
When the shock subsides, Coralie surveys the damage. Stunned but unharmed, she picks herself off the floor, covers her nudity with a silk robe, and knocks on the bathroom door.
Silence.
“Pet, come on.” She knocks again. “I want to talk to you.”
She tries the handle.
It’s unlocked.
Going in, she finds Pet sitting in their large ceramic bathtub, her knees pulled up to her chin, crying so hard she’s almost choking, her shoulders heaving.
“Let’s sort this nonsense out, Pet.” Coralie sits down by the side of the tub, resting her arms on the rim. “What happened back there?”
Pet says nothing. Struggling to find a way to express herself verbally, she turns over in the tub, maneuvering herself onto her hands and knees, presenting her bum to Coralie.
“What’re you doing?” Coralie gives her a light spank.
“I hurt you,” Pet wails. “You should punish me for it.” She sniffles, tensing her body in preparation for pain, her forehead pressed against the cold porcelain.
“Oh, Pet.” Coralie pats her baby soft rump. “I’m not going to chastise you. You shouldn’t be punished for an accident.”
She dives forward, biting one of Pet’s butt cheeks, eliciting a muted squeak of surprise, then gives Pet a push, rolling her into a sitting position.
“It wasn’t your fault.” She strokes Pet’s hair. “I wanted to try something new and it failed miserably. It’s not the end of the world.” She peers down at Pet’s hitherto untouched sex, suppressing her yearning for it. “You’re not ready.” She averts her eyes. “I want you to be, but you’re not. Perhaps we could try again another time, yes?”
“You really want me that way?” Pet mulls over the possibility.
“More than you can imagine,” Coralie assures her, hoping she may yet warm to the idea. “I’ve been with many of the other Mistresses over the years, and plenty of women outside the coven. I love every inch of the female form.” She pauses. “Will you consider it?”
Pet nods.
“Good.” Coralie beams, taking her hand and pulling her out of the tub. “Now let’s put this unfortunate business behind us and get ready to receive our guests.”
CHAPTER NINE
Coralie’s multi-million pound Kensington house, like so much else about her, is far from modest. Dressed in textured wallpapers, with shades of red, purple, and gray throughout, it’s bold and modern. Pet was afraid to touch the crystal door knobs for the first week, and it took her another six days before she’d sit on any of the furniture. Right now, Coralie’s young dinner guests are having similar troubles.
The three teen girls come from very different backgrounds. One hails from a family farm in Wales, another from a pair of lawyers in Bristol, while the third—a gobby, pink-haired urchin—resides in Kent. All three, however, have one thing in common: they were born witches.
Nearing the age of eighteen, it’s time for them to join a coven, but to do that, they must be referred by an existing member of the High Council. Tonight, that’s Coralie. Their future rests in her hands, and so far, she’s unimpressed. The shyest one didn’t know which knives and forks to use for which course at the dinner table, the most apathetic one farted and blamed it on the cat, and the pink-haired one can’t keep her lecherous eyes off Pet.
As they retire to the drawing room, Pet brings in a pitcher of lemonade for the girls and a glass of elderberry wine for Coralie, doing so without making eye contact with anyone. Perturbed by the pink-haired neophyte’s quirky smiles and flirtatious glances, she turns to leave, but Coralie’s sultry voice stops her by the door.
“Pet, don’t go.”
Nervous but obedient, Pet turns, drinking in Coralie’s appearance: a plum-colored satin blouse, combined with a knee-length black pencil skirt and the black stockings and stilettos she always wears. Tonight, her long, curled hair is half-up, the front pulled back, keeping it out of her face, and her freshly painted fingernails are the same color as her lipstick. She looks reserved and sophisticated, which is a far cry from the unrestrained vixen she is in bed.
“Come.” She pats her lap.
Trying to ignore the three strange pairs of eyes now following her every move, Pet pads to Coralie’s side and sits at her feet, some of her discomfort abated simply by being so close to her doting Mistress.
In a way that’s become routine for them, she strokes Coralie’s crossed legs, silently worshipping her. Quite often, they’ll sit by the fire at night, Coralie reading, Pet kissing and caressing. Invariably, Pet starts off on the floor, but always ends up in Coralie’s lap, or lying beside her on the couch. Sometimes, Coralie will read aloud to her. This happens particularly when the book is of a steamy nature, thus ensuring that they tumble into bed pre-heated. But things are set to go a different way this evening.
As Pet runs a hand up Coralie’s leg, the pink neophyte spots her painted nails, noting that both companion and Mistress are wearing the same shade.
“That’s cute.” She smirks, pointing. “You have matching color.”
Coralie scoops up one of Pet’s hands and kisses her fingers. “Pet picks what color she likes, and I paint them for her.” More kisses. “Her toes, too.”
“You do what she wants?” The neophyte laughs. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
“I take care of all Pet’s needs, whatever that may entail,” Coralie clarifies her position. “A companion should always be kept happy.”
“I’m looking forward to having my own.” The girl sips her lemonade, eyeing Pet like she’s a thing meant to be devoured. “How do you keep her in line?”
“Keep her in line?” Coralie throws the question back at her. “You presume Pet to be disobedient?”
The girl half-shrugs. “I dunno. I guess I just wanna know how you assert yourself when you seem so good to her. How does she know who’s boss?”
“Only people who lack control feel the constant need to assert it,” Coralie educates her ignorant guest. “In any case, Pet was a rescue and I’d never hurt her.”
“A rescue?” The belligerent teen pulls a face. “Like one of those sad-looking puppies at the animal shelter?”
Ignoring the attitude, Coralie answers with facts. “Pet belonged to another Mistress before me. I adopted her.”
“You took someone else’s seconds?” The girl wrinkles up her nose.
“Her first Mistress beat and abused her terribly.” Coralie trails a finger along Pet’s neck. “The wretched woman hurt my darling little Pet, and I couldn’t let that continue.”
Pet suppresses a whine, Coralie’s magic touch making her skin tingle.
“I knew from the first moment I saw her that she was destined to be mine,” Coralie goes on. “We couldn’t keep our eyes off each other, could we, Pet? Our eyes, our hands.” She slips her hand around Pet’s neck, sending a surge of electricity through her young companion’s body.
“What happened to her?” One of the quieter neophytes asks fearfully, mildly unnerv
ed by Coralie’s manner. “The other Mistress, I mean.”
“She’s dead.” Coralie keeps her eyes on the mewling, purring creature in her lap. “Nobody will ever mistreat Pet again.”
As the tingling sensation in Pet’s body extends below her waist, causing her priapus to stiffen in a matter of seconds, Pet angles herself away from the couch, hiding her arousal from the three curious teens … but not before one of them catches a glimpse of what she has to offer.
“Can I see it?” the pink-haired neophyte asks boldly, leaning in for a closer look.
Pet grabs a nearby cushion and holds it to her crotch, flashing Coralie a look of pure fright. She’s known other Mistresses to be so proud of their companion’s goods that they’ll jump at the chance to show them off to anyone who asks, but she doesn’t want to be put on display. Fortunately, Coralie is equally disinterested in turning her into a spectacle.
“I don’t share,” she responds calmly, dragging her fingers through Pet’s mane. “Pet’s body is for me, and me alone.”
“Just a peek,” the girl pleads.
Coralie rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She winks at Pet, then turns to the ballsy neophyte. “But first, show me your cunt.”
The girl’s smile drops and she stares at Coralie, open-mouthed. “What?”
“You heard me.”
The girl holds down her skirt, as if it might fly up of its own accord. “I don’t want to.”
“Then what makes you think Pet wants to show you her intimate bits and pieces?”
“I just thought …”
“You thought her feelings didn’t matter?” Coralie challenges her. “You thought I’d make her expose herself for giggles? You thought wrong.” She invites Pet up into her lap. “Pet’s feelings matter to me, as your future companion’s should matter to you.” She accepts Pet nuzzling her neck. “Companions aren’t toys.” She locks eyes with the pink-haired girl. “If you want a toy, might I suggest you get one that’s battery operated. In the meantime”—she beams a fake smile—“would anyone like something else to drink?”
Coralie emerges from her en suite bathroom wearing her sexiest lingerie—a red and black satin corset with matching knickers and stockings—and is immediately disappointed, but not surprised, to find her bedroom conspicuously empty. Pet’s nowhere to be seen. Donning a silk robe, she treks downstairs and locates her reluctant companion in the drawing room, clearing up empty lemonade glasses and cookie crumbs.
“Leave it. It’s bedtime.” She lingers by the door a moment, letting Pet get a good look at her, then walks away, knowing that her obedient companion will follow close behind.
Upon entering her bedroom, she discards her robe to the floor and stands at the foot of her bed, hands on hips, waiting. And waiting. Then Pet peeks around the corner, takes one look at her, and drops to all fours, crawling across the heated hardwood floor toward her Mistress.
Keeping her hands at bay until she’s given permission to touch, she begins her kisses at Coralie’s feet and works her way up. As she reaches the apex of Coralie’s thighs, she’s rewarded with the slight parting of legs, allowing her access to the pungent fruit hiding between, and she doesn’t hesitate to take advantage.
Her first kiss lands on Coralie’s mound, over her thick triangle of wiry hair, then she moves lower. She kisses the top of Coralie’s cleft, finding her clit and sucking it into her mouth, the damp fabric of Coralie’s knickers rich with the taste of her arousal. Lower still and she tongues Coralie through her underwear, making her tremble.
“Take them off.” Coralie sways unsteadily, using Pet’s shoulder for support.
Pet reaches up and fumbles for the waistband, but Coralie slaps her hands away.
“Use your teeth.”
Complying willingly, Pet clamps her teeth around the hem and pulls the sodden undies down to Coralie’s ankles with one swift tug, quickly returning her mouth to work.
In an effort to remain upright, Coralie grabs hold of the bedpost and lifts her foot onto an ottoman pushed against the end of the bed, anchoring herself as Pet dives into her crotch.
“Is my little Pet hungry tonight?”
Pet growls into her flesh, probing between her labia.
Coralie chuckles. “You know I can’t finish standing up, don’t you?” She fists Pet’s mane and tears her away. “I need to lie down.”
Dashing away from Pet’s eager tongue, she drops onto the middle of the bed and awaits the resumption of Pet’s oral stimulation. Instead, Pet scrambles onto the bed and unbuckles her jeans, preparing to release her revived priapus.
“Oh, gods, yes!” Coralie’s eyes spark and she helps Pet pull the jeans off her hips, freeing her erection. “Pet, are you sure?”
Pet frowns, her head cocked.
“Have you forgotten?” Coralie massages Pet’s seemingly eager anatomy, directing her attention to the large sash window beside the bed.
Outside, the white, round moon is in full view and Pet hangs her head, her enthusiasm softening in Coralie’s hand, then vanishing altogether.
“Not again!” Coralie throws her head back, grabs a pillow, and holds it to her face, smothering a scream.
Humiliated, Pet slides off the bed and pulls up her jeans, ready to retreat to the guest bedroom, as she did on the last moon, but she doesn’t get far.
“Wait.” Coralie flings the pillow away and calls her back. “You’re not excused.”
Pet hovers by the door, keeping her back to Coralie, afraid of being reprimanded.
“There are other ways you can give me pleasure.” Coralie’s voice softens. “In fact, I have an idea.” She delves inside the bedside table, fishing out the glass dildo. “Will you use this on me before you go?”
Pet pivots back to the bed, excited and terrified in equal measure. Coralie tosses the toy onto the mattress and lies in wait, her legs apart, her knees bent to the ceiling.
“Wet it first,” she instructs.
Pet picks it up and wraps her hand around it, moving it several times through her fist, testing how it feels, learning the weight and the shape of it.
“It’s okay, my darling.” Coralie reads her trepidation. “Use it just as you would your own. It won’t break, and you won’t hurt me.”
Apprehensive, but ready to do just about anything if it means making Coralie happy, Pet wets the toy with her saliva and nudges the tip to Coralie’s pink. Using her thumb and forefinger, she spreads open the folds of delicate wet flesh, giving her an unobstructed view of Coralie’s swollen opening as she pushes the phallus through.
Coralie groans, feeling the hard shaft filling her. “Deep and fast, Pet. Make it good.”
Despite being somewhat distracted by her first bird’s eye view of Coralie’s tight sex being ravaged mid-fuck, Pet does her best, even managing to generate a wail when she accidentally discovers her Mistress’s g-spot.
“Oh, that’s it!” Coralie clutches Pet’s wrist, making sure she targets the right area. “You have no idea how much I wish this was you.”
Pet stops abruptly.
Realizing her mistake, Coralie offers a swift apology. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.” She encourages Pet to continue. “Go ahead and finish me with the toy.”
Utterly disappointed—with herself and the whole evening—Pet’s gusto for the task wanes. She halfheartedly wiggles the dildo, sliding it back and forth with ease, but Coralie’s no longer making those wonderful noises, cheering her on.
Eventually, Coralie calls a halt to the torture. “This isn’t working.” She brushes Pet’s hand away and removes the hot, slick glass shaft, banishing it to the bedside table. “Do you want to try something else instead? Perhaps something else we’ve never done together.”
Pet looks blank.
“We can have penetrative sex,” Coralie suggests. “But rather than putting your priapus in the usual place, you put it … elsewhere. Somewhere there’s no risk of conception, thus no reason to be afraid.” She palms Pet’s crotch, testin
g to see if the proposition results in any anatomical changes.
It doesn’t, but under her ministrations, Pet begins to swoon. Taking a chance that she might now be receptive to stimulation of a different kind instead, Coralie slips a hand inside her open jeans.
“Talk to me, Pet.” She eases her fingers between Pet’s thighs. “Have you ever been touched like this before?”
Pet shakes her head, emitting a startled squeak as Coralie’s finger grazes her clit.
“Do you like it?” Coralie circles that firm nub, then slips down to tickle Pet’s labia, probing deeper to see if her ministrations are having any effect. “I can tell that you do.” She dips her fingers in the moisture she finds there. “You’re getting wet for me already.”
“I feel so strange.” Pet shivers, her toes curling. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Coralie teases her weeping flesh. “Just let me take care of you the way you’ve taken care of me countless times.” She pulls her hand back, sucking her damp fingers into her mouth. “Mmm, you’re so yummy.” She licks them clean. “I’ll definitely be needing some more of that.”
Without further ado, she divests Pet of her clothing, lies her down, and shuffles into position, kissing her way over Pet’s mound. Salivating at the thought of driving her tongue into her young companion’s needy flesh, she pulls Pet’s folds apart with her thumbs, baring the flushed inner pink, and …
“Oh, Pet!” she squeals gleefully.
“What?” Pet props herself up on her hands and looks down, expecting bad news. “You hate it? I knew you would.”
“No, silly.” Coralie slaps her thigh playfully. “My darling, you have a hymen!”
“So?” Pet looks perplexed. “Is that a good thing?”
“You’re a virgin again!” Coralie claps her hands together. “It’s exciting, no? I took your virginity once, and now I get to do it all over!” She dives back down, opening Pet up for another look. “This beautiful, maiden pussy …” She flicks her tongue over Pet’s clit. “All mine.”
Come, My Pet Page 8
