“Oh, naughty, Pet.” Coralie pulls Pet’s face away, displaying a wet spot in the gusset of her knickers. “Look at what you’ve done to me.” She trails a finger along her cleft. “How can I go back downstairs reeking of lust?”
Pet opens her mouth to respond, but Coralie puts a finger to her lips.
“Hush.” She tenders Pet a kiss. “No more talking.” She pushes Pet’s head back down. “Clean up the mess you’ve made.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
While Coralie applies a fresh coat of makeup in the bedroom, Pet sits alone in the bathroom, concentrating hard, trying to temporarily banish her priapus. If only to prevent further embarrassments with it, she wants to be in control of the thing.
To that end, determined to get to grips with her complex anatomy, she closes her eyes and wishes it away. When that doesn’t work, she stares at the flaccid rod in a threatening manner, hoping to frighten it off. No such luck. Pleading with it doesn’t help, either.
Growing exasperated with her failure to affect change—unable to generate even the faintest tingle in her loins—she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes again, and tries a different approach. This time, instead of focusing all her energy on driving away her augmentation, she tries to coax out her vagina by recalling how it felt when Coralie’s mouth was on her.
The heat.
Her probing tongue.
Soft lips.
All the sucking … the licking …
She remembers Coralie’s finger sliding into her, swirling around in her depths, and a warmth spreads throughout her abdomen. Half opening one eye, she peers down at her crotch, breaking into a victorious grin to see the return of her girl parts.
Eager to share her good news with Coralie, she bounds into the bedroom and leaps onto the four-poster, grinning from ear to ear and bouncing up and down.
“My love!” Coralie giggles at her antics. “Why so rambunctious?”
Pet kneels on the edge of the bed, pointing to her crotch.
“Ah, you’ve been practicing.” Coralie rises to congratulate her. “See, I told you it was possible.” She pecks Pet’s nose and reaches a hand between her legs, surprised to find her flesh slick with arousal. “Gods, you’re so wet.” She gasps. “Whatever were you thinking about in there?”
Blushing furiously, Pet takes hold of Coralie’s wrist and directs her gentle fingers toward the inner pink, suggesting the penetrative nature of her imaginings.
“Mmm, such delicious thoughts.” Coralie teases the entrance to her body. “Is this what you want?” She dips a finger inside. “Do you want me to fuck you, Pet?”
Without waiting for a response, she eases in another finger, stretching Pet’s hymen, the sudden intrusion causing the young companion to flinch.
“Try to relax.” Coralie wraps her arm around Pet’s waist, gripping her firmly. “I want to break you in.” She persists, despite Pet’s minor discomfort. “Will you let me?”
Pet nods, not entirely sure she knows what that entails.
“Thank you, Pet.” Coralie releases her. “Now lie down.”
Pinching her lower lip between her teeth, Pet does as she’s told, silently offering herself to her Mistress, while Coralie pulls open the drawer in the bedside table and withdraws a modest seven-inch dildo, followed by a leather harness. In a flash, she wriggles into the contraption, secures it around her hips, and douses the cock in lubricant, preparing it for use.
Pet forgets to breathe. Coralie looks quite a sight, standing there by the bedside wearing bra, stockings, and cock, and she can’t help but stare aghast at the protruding phallus, her insides clenching at the thought of being pierced by it.
“It might hurt at first,” Coralie addresses the concerned look on her face as she clambers onto the bed. “Just a little.” She maneuvers between Pet’s legs and leans over her, pinning her there. “But pleasure will soon follow, I promise.” She pushes the head through Pet’s labia, nudging it up against her slit. “Now talk to me, darling. Tell me you want this.”
Pet mewls, peering down at the junction of their bodies.
“Tell me,” Coralie insists sternly. “Else I shan’t do it.” She begins to back away, the connection about to be lost, but Pet clutches her buttocks.
“Fuck me,” she whispers, urging Coralie to her cunt. “Please.”
Coralie dips down to kiss her, letting the dildo slither its way back to her obstructed opening, bumping against her clit before it slips lower and hits the mark. When she feels it’s in position—the resistance of Pet’s hymen barring her way—she gives a short, sharp thrust, forcing the mushroom-shaped head in up to the crown. In that moment, Pet’s body gives way to her, the barrier broken in one fell swoop.
Trained not to complain, Pet doesn’t squeal. She merely winces, turning her head to obscure the traces of pain she can’t hide. Fortunately, the worst is over with and Coralie forges on, gliding the smooth shaft all the way in without any further difficulty.
“You’re not a virgin in any way now, Pet.” She keeps her movements slow and languid, hyperaware of the tension in Pet’s body. “How does it feel this time?”
Still recovering from the initial sting of defloration, Pet grasps Coralie’s breasts and murmurs softly, incapable of forming words. Hoping to increase her pleasure, Coralie changes the angle of her thrust, targeting a spongy button of skin deep inside Pet’s sex and keeping the pressure there until she lets out a phenomenal moan.
“Good, Pet.” Coralie concentrates her efforts. “Come for me.”
In the next second, Pet gushes all over Coralie, her body responding to the command, regardless of the recent changes to her anatomy. Her ejaculation horrifies her, but it makes Coralie ecstatic.
“I guess you come in torrents no matter what parts you have.” She chuckles.
“I’m sorry.” Pet grimaces at the mess she’s made. “I didn’t mean to do that!”
“Nonsense!” Coralie bursts into a broad grin. “It was perfect, and I take full credit for teaching your body to ejaculate on cue.”
Pet whines as Coralie pulls out, bracing herself as the fat head pops free and causes another sting of pain. In the aftermath, she slips a hand over her burning, throbbing sex and explores it for the first time, investigating the tender skin surrounding her opening, dismayed to then find her fingertips smeared pink: a mixture of blood and sex.
“It’s not unusual to bleed a little the first time,” Coralie assures her, not knowing how well she’s ever been educated about matters of sex. “And besides”—she unfastens the harness, dropping it to the floor—“I can make it all better.” She ducks down, kissing away the injury.
In a post-orgasmic glow, Coralie skips down the main staircase with Pet in tow behind her. Awaiting her arrival, the other Mistresses are milling around in the hall, preparing to lock themselves away in the High Council chamber to conduct their monthly business—from which the companions are excluded.
“You’re late.” Mistress Diana checks her watch.
“We were rather busy,” Coralie boasts unapologetically, adjusting her bra inside her fresh, pristine suit. “Pet can’t keep her hands off me.”
Out of habit—one that surfaces particularly in the presence of other Mistresses—Pet tucks herself behind Coralie’s shoulder, slyly demonstrating her affection by placing a hand on the small of her back: an intimate but subtle touch.
Regrettably, now’s the time they must part company. The wide double doors open on the parlor: a place for the companions to gather while the Mistresses are convened in the High Council chamber. In this room, and this room only, the companions can communicate without boundaries or fear of reproach—no permission required. Some companions use this time to revisit old friendships, engaging in light foreplay. Nudity is optional.
It’s standard procedure for the Mistresses to drop their companions off here, but Mistress Isabelle, fearful of gossip, never allowed Pet anywhere near the parlor. Forbidden from socializing with the other companions, Pet was
isolated and alone, left tethered in the hallway for hours on end. And to a point, that suited her just fine.
Chronically shy, she clings to Coralie’s arm, shaking her head, genuinely terrified by the prospect of being trapped in a room with her peers. Once inside, no companion can leave until her Mistress returns, and Pet can’t conceive of anything worse than spending the afternoon with a gaggle of other women who’ve most likely, at some time or another, had various parts of their anatomy buried inside Coralie.
“Go,” Coralie insists, nudging her toward the doorway. “I hate to think of you sitting all by yourself. Wouldn’t you rather be among friends? People you can talk freely with.”
She tries to pry Pet away from her, but Pet grips her waist, holding onto her for dear life. She can feel Pet’s tiny fists clenched around her blouse, pulling the silky fabric taut around her midsection, threatening to pop a button at her bust.
Sensing the need for a little leniency on account of Pet’s obvious misgivings, Coralie decides to make a deal with her. “I’ll come check on you in an hour or so. If you’re not having any fun, I’ll take you out and you can wait for me in our bedroom. How does that sound?” She strokes Pet’s shoulders. “Am I being fair?”
Pet nods, reminding herself how lucky she is to have a Mistress who considers her feelings, even when they’re founded in absurd fears.
“That’s settled, then.” Coralie smiles and pats her bum. “Off you trot now.”
Pet turns to leave, but her insecurities get the better of her. Needing just a little more courage, she stands on her tippy-toes, flings her arms around Coralie’s neck, and crushes her pink lips to Coralie’s crimsons.
As promised, her advance is met with nothing short of full reciprocation, the meeting of tongues lasting for as long as Coralie lets it, the gratuitous display garnering nothing but disapproval from any other Mistresses within eyeshot.
“All right, that’s enough.” Coralie extricates herself from Pet’s grasp. “You have to go.”
Just to clarify, Pet holds up her index finger, both eyebrows raised, hoping for a more solid pledge that Coralie intends to return to her in precisely one hour.
“Yes, my love.” Coralie boops her nose. “One hour. I swear it.” She spins Pet toward the parlor and gives her a gentle shove. “Now enjoy.”
Pet breaches the room under severe duress, calling to mind at least a thousand other places she’d rather be at this moment. Never particularly sociable at the best of times, arriving late to the parlor to find the rest of the companions already settled in their cliques is the epitome of her worst nightmares.
She’s the odd one out. Having never been in the coterie, she didn’t get to meet any of these companions back when they were playmates, and since this is the first time she’s ever set foot in the parlor, it’s also the first time she’s ever been in a position to engage any of them in conversation. It’s daunting, and they’re not exactly being welcoming.
Most of them are familiar to her, of course. She’s seen them with their Mistresses in the dining hall, and at other moments during past gatherings. In fact, some of them are rather more familiar to her than she’d like.
She spots Brat across the room, but has no interest in initiating any social contact. All she can picture is Coralie on the drawing room floor, being fucked hard and fast from behind, and the recollection makes her chest ache. Cringing, she looks away, seeking a quiet place to sit by herself and count down the minutes until Coralie returns.
The parlor itself is decked out like a playroom. Seating is split between couches and beanbags, with board games and gaming systems scattered all around. There are books, magazines, and a table full of snack foods and soft drinks.
Sticking to the outskirts of the room, Pet finds an unoccupied beanbag and plonks into it, curling herself up into a ball. As soon as the doors are closed, conversations spark up and she hopes to be ignored, but a busty blonde—newly risen from the coterie and thus a complete stranger to Pet—has other ideas.
With her waistcoat and shirt unbuttoned, her unfettered breasts on display, she strides purposefully across the room, digging a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of her back pocket.
“So you’re the one.” She drops cross-legged to the floor in front of Pet’s beanbag.
“The one what?” Pet peeks up at her.
“Coralie’s new toy.”
Pet hugs her knees to her chest, regarding the blonde suspiciously. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Fawn.” She puts a cigarette to her lips. “I’m your predecessor.”
“What?” Pet glowers at her.
“I was with Coralie in the coterie.” Fawn lights the cigarette. “I was her favorite.”
Pet stays silent. It hadn’t occurred to her that Coralie might’ve had a preferred playmate in the coterie, and she certainly hadn’t given any thought to the fact that she might have barged in on a pre-existing relationship.
“It’s funny, you don’t look that special to me.” Fawn sucks on the cigarette. “You’re just a wee tiny thing.” She grabs Pet’s knees and wrenches her legs apart, trying to get a look at her package. “What do you keep in there? A pencil? How’re you gonna keep her happy with that?”
Pet kicks Fawn away and retreats further into the safety of the beanbag.
“You know your precious Mistress is a filthy slut, don’t you?” Fawn leers over her. “I can’t believe she fell for this sweet, sad little girl thing you’ve got going on.”
“Stop it.” Pet grits her teeth.
“She used to take all of us.” Fawn leans over the beanbag, breathing smoke in Pet’s face. “One right after the other, or several of us at once.”
On the verge of tears, Pet shakes her head. “I don’t want to know.”
“She’s no Mistress.” Fawn sits back on her heels, drawing more smoke into her lungs. “She’s just something to be fucked, over and over again.”
“Enough!” Brat chimes in, descending on their conversation. “Leave her alone.” She rolls Pet over to the other side of the beanbag and squishes in beside her.
Now topless, Brat makes herself comfortable and thieves Fawn’s cigarette. “Stop being such a bitch.” She takes a puff. “It’s not Pet’s fault that Mistress Coralie overlooked you in favor of a younger specimen.”
“Fuck you.” Fawn helps herself to Brat’s breasts. “She stole my ticket out of the coterie. I had to put a lot of work in to get cozy with another Mistress after I was ditched.”
“I didn’t steal anything.” Pet colors up at the sight of two women fondling each other right in front of her. “Coralie chose me.”
“Yeah, why is that exactly?” Brat unfastens her pants, letting Fawn inside. “She didn’t even know you. What did you do to get your hands on her?”
Pet shrugs. “I didn’t do anything. I just … I loved her as soon as I saw her.”
Fawn laughs, her face busy in Brat’s crotch. “Love?!”
“I love her, and she loves me back,” Pet insists.
“Does she?” Fawn sits up and wipes her lips. “Has she ever told you that?”
Suddenly, unable to recall that Coralie ever has, Pet looks a lot less sure of herself.
“She’s just like the rest of them.” Brat brushes it off. “Don’t be fooled, and don’t give it another thought.” She flings her arm out, her hand landing on Pet’s leg. “Anyway, now that you’re away from the old witch, how about having some fun with us?” She makes a bid for Pet’s crotch. “Let’s see what you’re hiding in here …”
“No!” Pet swipes her hand away. “That’s not for you!”
“Whatever.” Brat returns her attention to Fawn, massaging the erection she’s now sporting. “Are you gonna fuck me? Or just tease me?”
“I’m gonna fuck you.” Fawn flips her over onto her stomach and yanks down her jeans, lifting her hips up. “Just the way you like it.”
For Pet, time couldn’t possibly move fast enough. Brat and Fawn enjoy each other next t
o her on the beanbag, so close she can hear every squelch and splurge. At one point, Fawn slams into Brat so hard that Brat falls forward, becoming wedged between Fawn and the beanbag, no freedom to move. To Pet’s eye, it looks like it should hurt. Fawn’s priapus is stretching Brat to the very limit of what ought to be comfortable, yet Brat takes it with relish, screaming for more.
And more.
And more.
When the parlor doors finally open and Coralie walks in, all conversation and sex play grinds to a halt. The room falls respectfully silent in the presence of a Mistress, and Pet leaps off the beanbag, dashing to greet her, colliding into her when she’s barely through the door.
“Pet!” Coralie giggles, struggling to stay on her feet under the force of her lover’s hug. “Such enthusiasm! I was only gone for an hour.”
Dropping to her knees, Pet lifts Coralie’s skirt and covers her thighs with kisses, causing her to stumble backwards into the wall.
“Did you miss me?” Coralie strokes the back of her head.
Pet whines into her flesh.
“Good, Pet.” Coralie grabs a fistful of her mane and tilts her head back. “I missed you, too.” She pulls fretful Pet to her feet. “So what’s the verdict?”
Pet shoves her face in Coralie’s bosom and holds her tight: She doesn’t want to be left in the parlor a minute longer.
“Very well.” Coralie leads her to the door. “I’ll take you to bed.”
On the way out, she feels another pair of eyes watching her and glances back into the room, catching a very naked, very erect Fawn glaring at her.
Masking her shock to see that Fawn’s managed to attach herself to another Mistress so soon—her eyes glowing with the distinctive fire of a bonded companion, which was probably the result of some magical underhandedness—Coralie returns the glare. Seconds before the parlor doors close, she makes sure the last thing Fawn gets an eyeful of is a passionate kiss between Mistress and companion, then she hurries Pet upstairs, lavishing more kisses on her as soon as they get inside their bedroom.
Come, My Pet Page 10
