The Pet Sitter by Ella Ford

The Pet Sitter by Ella Ford

Author:Ella Ford [Ford, Ella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BDSM, Bi or Pansexual, Domination and Submission, First Time Lesbian, Lesbian Erotica, Mistress/Pet, Novella, Sapphic Erotica, Toaster Oven
Amazon: B0CW1C6FSC
Goodreads: 216162421
Publisher: Second Wolf Publishing
Published: 2024-07-05T04:00:00+00:00


Chapter 4

The text from Lauren arrived just as Hope was nuzzling into my pussy to lead me willingly to my third orgasm of the evening.

“Just landed, all good. How is my little girl? Is she behaving herself? <winky-smiley>”

I gazed at my phone with distant interest, relishing the way Hope’s tongue felt on my tired pussy. This time she was really taking it slow, a lazy exploration, making me savor every moment of her expert attention.

I sighed and considered not replying. I was still vaguely angry with her for putting me in that situation, but not too much. I glanced up at the TV screen and the constant stream of naughty scenes it was still playing. Then inspiration gripped me.

“She’s been a very good girl. You’ve trained her well! She’s just eating at the moment while I watch some TV.”

I thought about including a winky-smiley of my own, but decided that less is more.

It took an unusually long time for Lauren to reply, she was normally a text message gunslinger. Presumably she was trying to work out if I meant what she thought I meant... Finally, my phone hummed and signaled her reply.

“Holy shit Skye! I thought you might hate me or something! Glad you guys are having fun.”

After a few seconds, another message arrived:

“Oh, I taught her a trick, one I think you’ll like. Ask her to ‘fetch’... Trust me on this.”

I tossed the phone to one side and melted back into the sofa as Hope tongue swirled around my clit. My hands dropped to her head and held her in place. After a moment, Lauren’s message had been forgotten, filed away in the back of my mind until later. For now, all I cared about was the pulsing warmth between my legs and where it might lead to.

I awoke the next morning feeling disoriented, struggling for a few moments to remember where I was. I was in a strange bedroom; my muscles were aching like I’d just run a half-marathon; there was a naked girl curled up on the bed by my feet, snoring lightly, twitching every few seconds…

“Hope, that’s Hope,” I said to myself, as memories of the night before rose like deep sea bubbles in my mind. “We—”

I stopped there, blinking incredulously at the recollection of what I’d done, what I’d made Hope do.

The naked blonde girl stirred and lifted her head, pushing up on her hands and blinking away the sleep. She peered around, experiencing her own moment of confusion. Her once bright lipstick was a pale imitation of its former self, smeared around her mouth (and on my own skin, I noted with distant wonder). Her hair was a tousled mess. A discarded pair of my pantyhose was tossed to one side on the bed beside her. They were ripped at the crotch.

“Morning,” I said, not hopeful of a response.

Hope blinked and stared at me, then crawled forward and nudged her nose to my chest. She was trying to tell me something. I’d had enough pets to tell that simple communication.



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