Come, My Pet

by Keira Michelle Telford

  Her last words are muffled as she buries her mouth in Pet’s sex, devouring her without hesitation or delicacy, alternating between attacking her clit and pushing inside her.

  At the onset, Pet yowls, instinctively parting her legs wider and reaching for the back of Coralie’s head. Every lash of her tongue feels like liquid fire, and Pet sizzles helplessly, utterly at her mercy. Brought to the brink of climax over and over again, but repeatedly denied release, she’s reduced to a mewling mess of trembling limbs in no time at all. She knows this game well.

  “Let me come,” she pleads, unable to take another minute of such exquisite torture, her body in spasms, her breathing ragged. “I want to come in your mouth.”

  Say no more.

  Coralie sucks hard on her clit, gliding a single digit through her opening to maximize the stimulation, and Pet’s first girl orgasm crashes over her, the experience so overwhelming that she very nearly loses consciousness.

  Leaving her there to recover, Coralie strips off her corset and retires to the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she’s done, she hopes to crawl into bed and fall asleep with Pet in her arms, but she’s destined to be disheartened. By the time she returns to the bedroom, Pet’s gone.

  Saddened that Pet’s still shying away from her, she wraps herself in her robe, traipses down the hall, and enters the guest bedroom, finding pajama-clad Pet curled up in the bed.

  “May I tuck you in?”

  Pet nods happily and shuffles over, giving Coralie enough room to sit on the edge.

  “You know we have an early start in the morning.” Coralie peppers her cheeks with kisses. “Why don’t you try to wake up before me, come to my room, and surprise me with your mouth? I’d like that.”

  As she leans forward for more kisses, her robe falls open, partially revealing one of her breasts, and Pet’s eyes wander.

  Coralie follows her wayward gaze. “You like what you see?” She shifts around on the bed, leaning against the headboard and stretching her legs out in front of her, flicking her robe over her knees. “Want to see more?” She tugs open her robe, completely exposing one of her breasts, and crooks her arm around Pet’s shoulders, bringing her closer, coaxing her to take the firm nipple in her mouth.

  Needing very little in the way of encouragement, Pet hugs Coralie’s waist and starts suckling, surprised when, after a few short minutes, she tastes a few drops of hot milk on her tongue. Startled, she pulls back, another droplet clinging to Coralie’s nipple.

  “It’s okay,” Coralie urges her to resume. “It’s part hormonal, part magic. I can only make it happen on moon nights, and I can make it stop if you don’t like it.”

  Considering that for less than a second before arriving at a decision, Pet sticks out her tongue and laps up the single creamy drop before sucking the nipple back into her mouth, purring as she drinks.

  Content with this intimacy, Coralie holds Pet to her chest, closing her eyes and relaxing, letting Pet take her fill. She notices that Pet’s priapus returns to her and stiffens, tenting out her pajamas, but she doesn’t draw attention to it. After a good twenty minutes, Pet falls asleep, her mouth still clamped around the now swollen nipple.

  Smiling, Coralie eases her off and lies her down, kissing her forehead. “Sleep well,” she whispers, turning the light off on her way back to her own room.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Coralie and Pet sit side by side, no sound but the rumbling engine of the limo and the crunching of pebbles beneath wheels as the vehicle snakes its way along the narrow roads to the desolate stone mansion where they’ll be spending the weekend.

  Since getting into the car, Coralie’s been waiting for Pet to display some small modicum of sexual interest in her, but so far, she’s been let down. Having woken alone, much to her chagrin, she’d dressed in one of her least conservative skirt suits in the hope of making the long journey more enjoyable by arousing Pet’s interest, but Pet’s anxiety about the gathering is proving too all-consuming to allow for the distraction.

  After fifteen more agonizing minutes, Coralie finally breaks the silence.

  “Ugh, I can’t stand this!” She slouches theatrically, letting go of the tension she’s been carrying in her body all day. “We’ve been in this car for over three hours, and you’ve yet to steal even a single glance at my legs.” Trying to lighten the mood, she smacks a kiss on the side of Pet’s head. “I’m not used to being so overlooked by you.”

  Pet stares at her hands, fussing with her nail polish, knowing that none of the other companions will be wearing any and that it’s likely to make her a target for mockery.

  “I missed you last night.” Coralie reaches for Pet’s hand, preventing her from picking at her nails. “I know we haven’t been together long, but already I loathe spending nights alone.” She pulls Pet’s hand into her lap. “Don’t you feel that way?”

  Pet manages a small nod.

  “I missed you this morning as well.” Coralie upturns Pet’s hand and traces patterns on her palm. “I thought you were going to wake up early and surprise me.”

  For the first time since getting in the limo, Pet smiles, but it doesn’t last long.

  “Oh, do stop fretting.” Coralie wraps her arm around Pet’s shoulders. “I can handle the other Mistresses.” Determined to brighten things up, she lets her gaze fall to a small lump in Pet’s crotch. “I saw you get a stiffening last night while you were drinking from me.” She palms Pet’s limp priapus. “It was very erotic. It turned me on.”

  The lump grows and Coralie tickles her fingers over it, feeling the blood rush in.

  “I love watching you grow.” She shifts sideways, getting a better grip. “I love feeling you harden in my hand.” She unfastens Pet’s pants and tugs them down around her ankles. “Do you want to fuck me?”

  Pet rather gets the impression that question’s rhetorical. She can see the need in Coralie’s eyes. It’s more than lust, more than desire, and she recognizes it immediately: it’s the same face she wore when she fucked Brat in front of all the other Mistresses.

  “I’m sorry,” Coralie apologizes in advance for her prurient behavior. “I need this.” She pulls off her knickers and straddles Pet’s lap. “I need you.” She grabs Pet’s priapus and sinks down on it, taking it all at once. “Moon times make me so damn horny.”

  Pet’s not complaining, but having made a mess of anything even remotely resembling enjoyable penetration last night, and being too afraid to initiate a do-over this morning, she’s leaking into Coralie within minutes, and Coralie’s not going easy on her. But that’s the plan.

  “We need to be quick, okay?” Coralie works her vigorously. “I just want you to come.” She grinds her pelvis in circles, experimenting with different sensations, ultimately finding the one that’ll make Pet spill. “I want to feel it.”

  The closer Pet gets, the harder Coralie rides her, driving her toward completion. In the end, the sex lasts all of ten minutes, and concludes with Pet emptying inside Coralie seconds before the limo pulls up outside the mansion, their union leaving a puddle of milt on the leather upholstery.

  Following a rushed attempt to make themselves appear presentable, Coralie and Pet descend upon the busy entrance hall holding hands, their closeness turning heads. Even the other companions—all unhappily chained to their Mistresses—make a point of scowling at Pet, openly resentful of how well she’s treated by Coralie.

  “Your stuff is gushing out of me.” Coralie adjusts her skirt. “If I wasn’t wearing knickers right now, I’d really be in trouble.”

  Again, the juxtaposition of Coralie’s sophisticated demeanor with her rampant sexuality has Pet silently amused, but from there, the tone of the gathering tumbles downhill fast. First, Mistress Diana spots them from across the room and strides over, a glass of champagne in one hand, her companion’s chain in the other.

  “Still no tether?” She’s quick to pick fault.

  “Still don’t need one,” Coralie retorts, reserving Pet’s tether f
or the rare occasions her young companion is in need of the added security it provides—which isn’t often.

  Though Pet’s been trained to stand at least one pace behind her Mistress’s shoulder at all times, Coralie flouts tradition and tugs her forward, looping their arms together. Whether she’s doing so because she wants Pet by her side, or simply because she wants to irk her elders, the result is a whole lot of disdainful looks and much more attention than Pet would like.

  Another Mistress—one Pet recognizes as the envious witch who accused Coralie of cheating at the last gathering—is quick to throw in her own snarky comments.

  “How trim you look.” She eyes Coralie’s flat belly.

  “How subtle you are.” Coralie flashes her a saccharine smile.

  “Well, why no pregnancy?” the Mistress keeps prodding. “This is your second moon.”

  “We’re working on it.” Coralie kisses Pet’s head, taking the disapproving glares and the snide remarks in her stride. “And I think we need a little more practice, so if you can bear my absence, Pet and I are going to get settled in upstairs.” She pulls Pet toward the staircase.

  Inside their bedroom, she’s pleased to discover a fire already lit and their suitcases deposited by the bed. It’s warm, it’s inviting, and she gets straight down to it.

  “I think a nice hot bath is in order. How about you?” She strips off her knickers. “At the very least, I need a change of clothes. I’m drenched.” She tosses the dripping panties into a nearby laundry hamper. “And things are probably getting uncomfortably sticky in your nether regions, too.” She grabs a fistful of Pet’s waistcoat and pulls her closer. “So how about it, Pet? Bath or shower?”

  Pet separates from her and bounds into the en suite bathroom to draw a bath, finding a selection of oils and bubbles into the bathroom cabinet. Unable to pick just one, she pours a concoction into the water, resulting in a potent floral aroma and an over-abundance of bubbles that splurge out over the sides of the large, oval tub and onto the heated tile floor.

  “Goodness!” Coralie appears in the doorway, sans jacket and cufflinks. “I can’t leave you alone for two seconds, can I?”

  She shuts off the water before it reaches the overflow, and sticks her hand in to check the temperature. As she bends over, Pet ogles her derrière, unaware that a mirror on the far wall is reflecting her interested eyes right back at Coralie.

  “I hope you’re going to do more than gawp.” Coralie gives her bum a wiggle.

  Holding that position, she waits for Pet to make a move on her, but Pet, put on the spot and taken by surprise, shoves her hands in her pockets and looks away.

  “You don’t always need to wait for express permission to touch me, Pet.” Coralie spins on her heels and backs Pet up to the counter. “When we’re alone, I’d like to think that you feel comfortable enough to flirt with me, hold me, and kiss me at will. Your advances will never be met with anything but warmth and reciprocation.”

  She grabs Pet’s rump and lifts her up onto the counter, making her gasp.

  “Of course, I have no problem taking the lead.” She locks her lips over Pet’s, giving her a tender, closed-mouth kiss. “But it’s also nice to be shown that you want me as much I want you.”

  Pet directs Coralie’s attention southward, the degree of her yearning made obvious by the physical reaction Coralie always provokes in her.

  “I suppose that’s true.” Coralie giggles, unfastening Pet’s pants and relieving the pressure for her. “You are in possession of a very reliable barometer of your affections.”

  Pet’s crusty priapus flops out.

  She raises an eyebrow at it. “You’re definitely getting this bath with me.” She smirks, unbuttoning Pet’s waistcoat. “There’s room enough for two.”

  Amidst kisses, and after some hasty undressing and the addition of a few extra bubbles, Coralie ties up Pet’s hair, then her own, and sinks into the sudsy water.

  “Come here.” She grabs a sponge. “Let me wash you, you dirty little monkey.”

  Grinning from ear to ear, loving to be cherished by her Mistress, Pet steps into the water and plants her bum between Coralie’s legs. Less than graceful, her sudden descent sends miniature waves crashing over the rim of the tub, bubbles slopping everywhere.

  In the midst of the tsunami, Coralie scoots up behind her and squeezes warm water over her shoulders, scrubbing every inch of her back before slipping her hands under Pet’s arms and soaping up her chest.

  “Such a dirty little monkey,” she repeats softly, kissing Pet just below her ear. “My precious, dirty, dirty little monkey.”

  Discarding the sponge into the water, she rubs Pet’s small breasts, pinching both erect nipples between her fingers.

  “I love your body,” she whispers, encouraging Pet to rest against her shoulder. “Every inch of it.” She drops one hand below the surface of the water, seeking out Pet’s already lengthening augmentation.

  Adding this to her ever increasing list of sexual firsts, Pet closes her eyes and enjoys the sensation as Coralie begins stroking her rising erection. Once she’s certain she has her anatomical response to Coralie’s touch under control, and is at no risk of embarrassing herself, she arches her back and reaches behind her, fumbling for Coralie’s core. It’s not the most conducive angle for a decent fuck, but she receives a whimper of sincere appreciation when the tip of her middle finger grazes Coralie’s swollen clit.

  “Let’s make each other come.” Coralie chews on Pet’s earlobe. “I haven’t had a release in almost twenty-four hours. I think I’m going to pop.”

  Harnessing every bit of concentration that isn’t already dedicated to the task of holding back her own climax, Pet focuses on the action of her hand, swirling her fingers around the hard nub at the apex of Coralie’s sex. Her eyes still closed, she listens to Coralie’s breathing, paying attention to every whine, working on increasing their frequency until Coralie is a shivering, moaning wreck.

  When it’s time, Coralie’s usual command for completion doesn’t even make it out of her mouth. She gets as far as “Come—” and her words dissolve into a cry of two-fold pleasure, a powerful orgasm coursing through her as Pet’s erection swells and erupts in her hand.

  Afterward, sparing a few minutes to remember how to breathe, Pet squirms around and plants a kiss on Coralie’s lips. Now face to face, she finds Coralie’s breast beneath a mound of bubbles and clutches it, tweaking the nipple she had her lips around last night and giving it a slight tug, massaging and pulling on it, testing for a reaction.

  Coralie chuckles. “If you’re hoping for a treat, you’ll need to wait until the sun sets.” She stays Pet’s hand. “Plus, I’m a little sore from last night.” She switches Pet over to her other breast. “You suck hard, and you have sharp teeth.”

  Pet lets her hand fall away, her expression turning instantly apologetic.

  “It’s all right.” Coralie puts her hand back. “Ordinarily, I love it when you bite my nipples, but I think I’ve discovered that twenty full minutes of it is a bit much. And I can’t just wave my hand and make it all better. It would be a violation of coven law to use my magic on myself.”

  On that note, Pet taps her lips, indicating her wish to speak.

  “Okay, talk to me, Pet.” Coralie sweeps her arm around Pet’s waist. “But only if you’re about to say something incredibly flattering.” She holds up a mock finger of warning.

  “I was wondering …” Pet rubs her thumb over Coralie’s tender nipple, mustering the confidence to ask, “Have you … last night … with other … ?”

  Coralie shakes her head. “Only you, my love. It seemed far too intimate a delight to share with anyone but my bonded companion.” She instigates a kiss. “I suppose you could say that I was saving myself for you.”

  Given Coralie’s history of promiscuity, that’s a giggle-worthy notion, but Pet’s still visibly relieved to know that she gets to share something with Coralie—even if it’s just one small thing—that no-
one else will ever have.

  “I’ve never been this happy,” she states for the record, caressing Coralie’s soft skin. “I didn’t even know I could be.”

  “Nor did I.” Coralie sighs contentedly. “You really are perfect.” She explores Pet’s body with her eyes. “So absolutely, completely perfect.” She draws Pet to her chest. “Thank you for indulging me in the car, by the way. I know I said I’d never force myself on you, but your anatomy was so responsive, and—”

  Pet plants another kiss on her, silencing her apology. “I liked it.”

  “Did you?” Coralie captures her lips again. “I wasn’t too aggressive?”

  “I trust you.”

  As Pet repositions for comfort, Coralie feels something stiff jabbing at her pubic mound.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think we have time for that.” She holds Pet off. “We need to get out of this tub before we turn all pruny.”

  Pet grumbles, but heaves herself up and out, then helps Coralie out after her. Instead of drying themselves, they dry each other, Coralie taking extra care to rub behind Pet’s ears and around her collar, leaving no inch untended. Once done, Coralie slips into some clean underwear and slinks over to the vanity in the bedroom. She’s about to start moisturizing her legs when Pet, still nude, crawls up to her and volunteers herself for the task instead.

  “Have I mentioned how devastatingly perfect you are?” Coralie leans back on the vanity chair, propping her leg up to give Pet better access. “I should be the one worshipping you.”

  Pet blushes, working the cream between Coralie’s toes before moving upward, dropping kisses all over her thighs in the process.

  “You know you’ll have to stay with me tonight.” Coralie crooks her other leg over Pet’s shoulder. “There’s nowhere for you to retreat.”

  Pet nods, but makes no comment, her kisses making their way to Coralie’s crotch.