Pets: Bach's Story by Darla Phelps

hand away. He had nothing to do now but take his time.
    He mixed up a second syringe in the bathroom, the water this time hotter than the last since it would have time to cool before he could use it, then washed his hands.
    Back in the living room, he lay the syringe on the floor between her legs and settled upon his knees to explore her narrow sex with its strangely inside out clitoris.
    Pani groaned and grunted, her whole body trying so hard to contort in her bonds, to expel the awful liquid having its intended effect within her, and to somehow evade his finger as he pressed it up to her woman’s passage. She was smooth as silk inside, the walls of slick muscle clamping down and squeezing his finger, a very welcoming feel despite the teary-eyed look of pleading she gave him.
    There was one sweet spot, he noted curiously that, when caressed, brought Pani’s whole body into a jolt of motionlessness. She sucked a startled breath, and when he caressed the spot again, closed her eyes and bowed her head, pressing her forehead into the seat of the cushioned chair.
    “Do you like that?” he asked. He was barely able to reach the spot and had to press deep in order to stroke it with the tip of his finger.
    Her thighs clenched and the length of her silken sheath squeezed around him, shivering much the way a real woman’s would as her orgasm came upon her.
    So, Pani could have orgasms, he thought, a slow smile spreading across his face. That gave him an advantage.
    He parted the folds of her labia with his other hand. Licking two fingers, he gently peeled back the hood that shielded her misplaced clit. Her head came up, and she sucked in another deep breath through her nose as he stroked the sensitive tip of the tiny nub he revealed.
    “Oh yes,” he rumbled, chuckling as her hips tried to bucked against his hands. “Pani is going to be a very good girl for her Papa, now isn’t she?”
    Her bonds held her so tightly that she could barely move an inch in any direction. But as he began a rhythm of flicking and circling that hitherto hidden nub, her squirms to get away became grinding motions as she used her meager inch of mobility to ride her hips upon his fingers.
    She was growing wet and quivery and more silky feeling deep inside. Bach withdrew his fingers, piercing her with two now, stretching and filling her to her accompanying moan as she struggled to move on them.
    She dropped her forehead back to the cushions again, long low moans fighting their way past her gag. She was very tight, her sheath squeezing the twin digits he was stroking long and as deep as he could reach inside her. He removed them after barely half a minute, added a third finger and thrust them hard inside her. She was so stretched now to take him that he could feel the plug in her bottom against the back of his knuckles.
    Pani whimpered, thrashing her head, alternately stiffening upright as far as her bonds would allow, then collapsing back on the cushions. She shook, but the wet, slick sound of her sex as he pounded his fingers in and out left him with no doubt of just how much she was enjoying this, despite her pleading expression and the plaintive noises she was making.
    He watched her body carefully, and as the pitch and desperation of her cries intensified.
    The inner walls of her womanhood locked down on his fingers, holding him fiercely close, shivering, her hips grinding and humping upon his hand. He abruptly stilled his fingers, pressing them firmly between her legs until the threat of her coming had passed.
    “Not just yet,” he told her. “Pani has been a bad girl, after all. If you want to spend with me, my little miss, you’re going to have to show me you can be good.”
    He got up and walked out of the room while she wailed her protest into her gag. He went to the kitchen and made some coffee, then brought it to his desk so he could check the news on his computer and keep an eye on her.
    She was trying hard not to look at him, but the