Bailey, the Family Pet

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Author’s note: This is an entry for summer love contest 2015. I put it in fetish because it has so many different themes: noncon, submission, interracial and exhibitionism to name a few. Its got a fast pace and a dark rising drama. Stick with it to the end for a satisfying close. I kept asking myself why would anyone want to be someone else’s pet. This is the story I got. I hope you like it.


Bailey woke, the scent of something in the backyard strong in her head.

Rabbit? Squirrel? Her stomach did a slow lazy roll and she fought to keep the nausea at bay. She got an unnerving image of herself using her teeth to tear into the flesh of some tiny creature. The hormone shots were working, but not as fast as she’d hoped.

Bailey rose to all fours.

The mat she slept on still held a faint odor of the last pet. A female. Fertile. Eighteen, the same age as Bailey. She straightened her arms and lowered her hips in a silent but satisfying back stretch. It was dawn, the rest of the house still asleep. Bailey laid her cheek against the soft sleep mat, its dark wispy hairs tickling her nose. She let her mind wander to the bitch that’d slept on it before. What had happened to her? Where was she now? A sinking feeling rose up in Bailey.

Scrambling to her feet, Bailey whimpered. It was a soft, insistent noise that she didn’t realize she was making. She caught a glimpse of herself in the backroom mirror and the mewling caught in her throat. She was completely nude, tall and with a swimmer’s lean body. Yesterday the groomers had given her hair a layered razor cut and color. Her long blonde tresses were gone and now she sported a pink and apricot bob. They’d also given her a deep muscle massage, as it was the surest way to quicken the effect of the hormones required to make her a human pet.

Bailey craved the attention—the adulation—she received as a pet. Here at the Williams’ house, she got that in spades. She turned to admire her backside.

The stylist had trimmed, painted and polished the nails on her hands and feet. They’d also woven colorful beads into her hair, oiled her skin, and shaved her pubic patch into the shape of a heart. When the groomer led her out to present his work, Warren made a satisfied animal noise in his throat and commented first on her mons.

“Nice touch,” he said, clipping on Bailey’s leash.

Even without her heightened sense of smell, Bailey could tell Warren was aroused. She felt it too. She wondered if it was purely the work of the hormones. After all, she’d known Warren Williams since she’d first begun swimming at Brynmoore Club as a child. He had silver hair, a square chin, and the sculpted body of a Marine. He was also one of the wealthiest parents in a club noted for its wealthy members. But he wasn’t Mr. Williams or Warren to her anymore. Now he was Master Warren. When his eyes dropped to her crotch and the corner of his mouth turned up, her response was physical and immediate. The folds in her pussy grew moist and the color rose in her face and neck. Nothing like that had ever happened in all the years she’d swum at the club. Just thinking about it now made her nipples tingle.

Bailey padded through the big house to the hall outside Warren’s bedroom. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she gazed at the door knob. It was considered bad form for a human pet to use her thumbs. If the door had been ajar, Bailey could have slipped inside and curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed. As it was, Bailey slid to the floor and stared at the ceiling with her hand between her legs.

The door on the other side of the hall opened. Bailey remained immobile, only her eyes tracking movement. It was Brian, Warren’s son.

“Bailey,” Brian whispered. “Come girl.”

Bailey raised her head.

Brian was a legend at the club. He left for a tour of duty about the same time Bailey joined the club. He came back a few years later, forever changed. Silent. Images of desert warfare tattooed on his arms and chest. He never rejoined the team, but instead swam laps endlessly.

“Come,” he whispered.

Bailey got to her feet. He had a wild, unpredictable scent that made a current of electric juice pulse through her body.

She padded to his door.

He grinned, brilliant white teeth. He wore pajama bottoms and no shirt. His muscular chest was covered with a fine mesh of curly dark hair.

“Good girl,” he whispered. Petting her head, he slipped a salty meat treat into her mouth and let his fingers linger. Bailey gobbled it up, licking the salty taste from his fingers. He gave her another and then scratched her affectionately between her breasts. His fingers passed lightly over her hard nipples. Bailey felt the air leave her lungs.

He led her into his room and softly closed the door. “Kneel, Bailey.” He whispered. “Kneel.”

Bailey cut her eyes to the door.

The sex scent in this room was strong. So strong she felt certain Warren would smell it. How could he not? If he did, would it bring him barreling through kaçak iddaa the door, snarling and ready to attack. Bailey thought of the young bitch whose scent filled her sleep mat.

Brian used his finger to move her chin. He had a wolfish look in his eyes. “Kneel,” he commanded, his voice low and cool.

Bailey’s legs felt weak. Holding onto his hips, she lowered herself to her knees.

“Good girl,” he said. He patted her head and put two more treats into her mouth.

The treats made her salivate. Bailey sucked the salt from them to bolster her courage. He lowered his pajama waistband. The hair on his chest went all the way down and surrounded his cock. Taking it in his hand, he gave himself a quick pump. It was already fat and hard, with a slick round head. Bailey swallowed what was in her mouth and licked her lips.

He rubbed his fingers over the head, then pressed his big pink helmet against her lips. Bailey licked the meaty treat taste from his cock. He made a soft groan. Putting both his hands on her head, he tugged her close, filling her mouth with his cock.

He gave a deep sigh.

Bailey melted with pride at the sound of his moans. Communication was the single great challenge of being a pet. The hormones took away the power of speech almost immediately, leaving human pets with the ability to make only the most rudimentary sounds. Bailey mewled and whimpered to show her satisfaction. The cock was large and hard and fulfilling, and best of all it was attached to a man making contented noises of approval. Bailey squeezed her thighs together and whimpered around the fat cock stuffed in her mouth.

“Bailey,” Brian hissed. Taking a handful of her hair in his hand, Brian yanked her head back so hard tears filled the young girl’s eyes.

Brian’s eyes were on the door. “Shush.”

Shoving his tip of his cock back into her mouth, Brian stroked himself. Bailey held onto his thighs. His fist feather-kissed her lips with each pump. The big advantage of human pets was the speed with which they could bounce back from disapproval. Cupping his ball sack with one hand, Bailey worked her other hand around his shaft at the very base. This was arguably the most legitimate use of thumbs for any pet. Bailey knew it and raised her eyes to gauge his satisfaction. Putting his fists on his hips, he watched her intensely.

She pumped his cock. Massaged his balls.

He gripped her head tightly and filled her mouth with salty semen. Bailey knew from her former life as a girl to continue stroking his cock as the jets of warm cum squirted into her mouth. Soon he stilled her hand, taking his cock from her.

He squatted to look in her eyes. “Swallow,” he said.

Bailey swallowed.

“Ahh,” he said with delight. “Good girl!”

Brian stood, stroking her cheek. Reaching into his pocket, he stuffed half a dozen salty meat treats into Bailey’s mouth. Helping her to her feet, he cooed words of praise and comfort. Bailey glowed with satisfaction.

He put his hand into the small of her back and herded her into the hall. The door thudded softly into its jamb. Bailey spit the meat treats into her hand. It was her favorite treat, but on top of his salty load of semen, it was just too much for her. Hiding them under the hallway runner for later, she padded to her big water dish in the back room. She got down on her hands and knees and lapped cool water from the bowl, slaking her thirst and making a huge mess.


Bailey woke with an urgent need to pee.

She heard Evelyn Williams, Warren’s wife, speaking from the backyard. “He was up before me,” she said. There was the faint noise of an eating utensil on a plate. “Showered, dressed, and already finished with breakfast.”

“Anna said he cooked it himself.”

Bailey drew her knees up under her and wiped the sleep from her eyes. Her bladder felt like it might burst at any second. She worked the muscles in her groin to buy herself a little more time.

“I almost fainted,” Evelyn said.

“It’s a good sign,” Warren said.

Bailey raised her head. His deep gravelly voice washed over her like a bucket of warm water, provoking an immediate and strong sexual response. The salty aftertaste of his son still lingered at the back of her throat. A gift of the hormone shots was the complete inability to process guilt. Rising from her mat, Bailey burst through the screen door and strode onto the patio.

Evelyn held a fork halfway to her mouth. She was fair-skinned, with long dark hair, and cold blue eyes. Her mouth was a small line at the bottom of her narrow face. Her eyes were trained on Bailey.

Bailey stopped. She gazed over her shoulder, suddenly unsure of herself.

“Look who’s awake!” Warren exclaimed. He wore a huge grin.

Evelyn silently lowered her fork to her plate, her mouth unchanged.

Bailey swallowed hard. She squeezed her thighs together, suddenly afraid she might have an accident on the patio.

“Come, Bailey,” Warren said. “Come.” He patted his kaçak bahis thigh.

Bailey trotted over to Warren. She arranged herself on her knees at his feet, and put her head in his lap. He ruffled her hair.

“I love what Julio did with her hair,” he said. “Look at it!”

Evelyn said something but Bailey didn’t hear it. Her head was swimming with Warren’s praise. He held a piece of sausage from his plate and Bailey eagerly devoured it, licking his fingers clean. She could smell the blood rushing to fill his cock. Her own labia were swollen and moist. Wrapping her arm around his waist, she nuzzled her head into his lap, whimpering and brushing her cheek against his engorged dick.

He shoved her head from his crotch and laughed.

Crossing his legs, he shifted in his seat. Bailey grinned. It was a game. What else? She could smell his desire. She felt it too. Her pussy ached with an unfulfilled need. Rising to her knees, she licked her lips and rubbed his haunches.

His phone rang. He took it from his pocket and held it to his ear. Sitting up straight as he spoke, he uncrossed his legs.

Bailey straddled his thigh. She laid her taut nipples against the cool cotton of his dress shirt and began moving her hips, humping his leg.

Warren rose immediately, sending Bailey sprawling onto the patio.

Bailey rolled onto her bottom. She sat with her weight on her palms, her legs splayed wide.

Warren spoke with excitement into the phone. He winked at her and went right on talking.

“Bailey,” Evelyn said. Her hand folded around Bailey’s hand.

Evelyn helped her to her feet. “Bailey,” Evelyn repeated, her voice lowering.

Warren just kept right on talking. Wrenching her attention from him, Bailey turned to face Evelyn, who lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, then put her hands on her hips. Her cigarette smoldered. She tilted her head. Reaching for Bailey’s breast, Evelyn gave it a perfunctory squeeze.

Bailey felt as if she were at the doctor’s office.

Evelyn regarded Bailey’s firm haunches. Taking a piece of food from the table, she held it between two fingers. “Sit, Bailey.”

Bailey whimpered. Her bladder made its own insistent plea.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes.

Bailey knelt.

Lowering her chin, Evelyn raised her brow.

Bailey went from her knees to her bottom in one fluid motion.

Evelyn smiled. She tucked the food into Bailey’s mouth.

It was a sweet bread. Not what Bailey expected. Not what she wanted. She chewed anyway, squeezing her thighs together. She put a hand between her legs to help her hold her water. Bailey swallowed what was in her mouth, giving Evelyn a pleading look.

It was hot. The morning sun beat warm on Bailey’s shoulders and back. Anna appeared from the house and began clearing the breakfast dishes, the plates making soft ringing noises as they were stacked. She was a big lumbering woman with a plain round face and stout legs.

Warren spoke on his phone. He laughed.

A lazy bee hummed.

“Beg,” Evelyn whispered.

Beg? A bolt of fear swelled in Bailey’s chest. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. She looked to see the expression on Evelyn’s face.

Evelyn blew smoke over her shoulder. She smiled. Shaking off one of her sandals, she extended her bare foot.

Bailey silently rolled onto her hands and knees. She made the smallest movements with her knees, the better to keep her thighs together—her water inside. Taking Evelyn’s foot in her hands, Bailey pressed her warm cheek against the cool skin. Evelyn’s scent was calm. She was enjoying this. Bailey turned her head and pressed her lips against Evelyn’s foot then raised her eyes.

“Stay,” Evelyn said, withdrawing her foot.

She moved behind Bailey, out of her field of view.

Tucking her arms under her chest, Bailey squeezed her thighs together, pressing her groin onto the cold stone of the patio.

“Bailey, we’re going to have to talk about Warren.” Evelyn talked around the cigarette in her mouth. She was squatting now, stroking the back of Bailey’s thigh. “I know you can understand me. I’m on the team that developed Human Pet Hormone.”

She forced her fingers between Bailey’s thighs, gliding so very close to her pussy. Bailey tensed the muscles in her shoulders, her bottom.

“I know more about what you’re experiencing right now, what you’re going to experience in the coming weeks, than anyone else on the planet.” Evelyn blew smoke into the air. “Even you.” Evelyn chuckled.

Evelyn wedged her thumb between the warm globes of Bailey’s ass. Finding Bailey’s asshole with her thumb, Evelyn pressed against the delicate little rosebud even as the edge of her hand rubbed the folds of Bailey’s moist pussy. Warren was about twenty yards away, his hand moving in the air as he spoke. Anna was only a few steps away, going about her tasks.

“I know, for example,” Evelyn said, “that what’s happening with you and Warren isn’t personal.”

A finger sailed over Bailey’s illegal bahis clitoris, making her gasp.

“It’s physiological, largely out of your hands.” Evelyn smeared something greasy between the cheeks of Bailey’s ass. Curling her toes, Bailey lowered her head and held her breath.

Silverware and glasses tinkled as Anna loaded her cart.

Evelyn pressed her thumb hard against Bailey’s tight asshole, the slippery grease making it hard to resist. “But we’re going to have to come to an understanding, Bailey.”

The pressure against her asshole stopped, but Evelyn’s thumb was still back there, her fingers still tantalizing Bailey’s pussy.

“Listen,” Evelyn said. She deftly moved her fingers over Bailey’s swollen clitoris. “You can fuck him,” Evelyn whispered. “You can suck his cock. You can ride his tongue and let him fill you up with all his nasty semen. But . . .”

Evelyn removed her hand. Bailey whimpered. Her bladder ached. Her clitoris longed for attention. She turned to look over her shoulder at Evelyn.

“You can’t humiliate me, Bailey.”

Evelyn plunged her finger deep into Bailey’s asshole, sinking it all the way to the second knuckle. The other fingers pressed against Bailey’s ass cheek.

Bailey gasped.

“I won’t stand for it,” Evelyn hissed. The cigarette dangled from her mouth. Evelyn pulled her finger back, then shoved it in again.

More surprising than painful, the assault made it difficult for Bailey to remain in control of her water. She clenched the muscles in her bottom tighter, but this only made Evelyn push harder. Whatever Evelyn had used to lubricate Bailey’s ass was now oozing from her bottom, running freely between her legs.

Or maybe she was peeing. She couldn’t really tell anymore.

“Should I sweep back here, ma’am?” Anna asked.

Evelyn’s finger sank into Bailey again. Bailey grunted. Once, twice more. Evelyn huffed with exertion. And then it was out. Bailey gasped. She felt a void in her ass, a great emptiness that both relieved her and filled her with longing. Her head was spinning. Everything below her waist felt numb.

The longing horrified her.

“Yes,” Evelyn said. She was out of breath, speaking to Anna. “We’re all going inside.”

Evelyn tapped Bailey’s flank and commanded her to stand. Across the yard, Warren put his phone in his pocket.

“Pull yourself together,” Evelyn whispered. “Warren’s coming.”

Warren strode across the lawn like a Roman centurion. Chin thrust forward, back ramrod straight. Bailey used the heel of her hand to wipe her eyes, her nose.

Evelyn fluffed Bailey’s hair. Bailey could smell the sharp tang of her bottom on Evelyn’s hand. Evelyn plunged her finger into Bailey’s mouth. Bailey eyes widened.

“Your treat,” Evelyn said, the corner of her mouth rising.

The finger tasted bitter. Buttery. She’d used butter to lubricate Bailey’s ass.

“Good girl.” She put her hand on the back of Bailey’s neck. Wet fingers played through the hair at the nape of her neck. Evelyn was drying her fingers in Bailey’s hair.

“What’s wrong with Bailey?” Warren asked. He took Bailey’s cheek in his hand and she nuzzled his palm. “Why is she standing like that?”

Bailey’s squeezed her thighs together.

She dared not move.

“She’s fine,” Evelyn said. “Give her some exercise.”

Warren put his fist on his hip and looked around the patio. He spotted a tennis ball, picked it up, and tossed it across the yard. Warren raised his eyebrows, beaming at Bailey.

How could she disappoint him? Bailey set her chin.

She took one step toward the ball and her bladder let go. She squatted. Water rushed from between her legs. Her thighs, calves and heels were suddenly soaked. Hot shame bit at her cheeks, but she felt blessed relief and moaned.

Her water just would not stop. She put her head in both palms and whimpered.

“Oh, Bailey,” Warren said.

Bailey wanted to crawl under the patio chair. Her breath caught in her throat. And then suddenly her head was cradled in someone’s hands. She smelled nicotine. Her face was pressed against the soft folds of Evelyn’s skirt.

“Don’t shame her,” Evelyn scolded. “Not for this.”

Evelyn stood barefoot in the puddle that was growing under her pet. She petted Bailey’s head, cooing soft words of comfort. When Bailey finished, Evelyn raised Bailey’s face and smiled warmly. Using her thumbs, Evelyn dried Bailey’s tears.

“Clean this up,” Evelyn said to Anna.

By this, of course, Evelyn meant both Bailey and her puddle.

Anna used a warm wash cloth to clean Bailey’s legs, her bottom. Then a soft towel dried her, followed by liberal applications of talc. But Anna could do nothing for the bitter taste that still lingered in Bailey’s mouth. It was the taste of nicotine, warmed butter, and her own tangy bottom. It was the taste of disappointing her master.

And it was more.

It was the taste of all the uncertainty that loomed before her.


Bailey was starving.

She looked forlornly at the big silver bowl by her feet. Warren stood on her left, Evelyn on the right. A small pile of brown and red kibble sat in the bowl.

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