A Pet's Rebellion Ch. 04

"Say it! Say it, Pet!" His head rose, and so did most of his body. He used his free hand to push himself up. His eyes seemed to pierce her throat. "Say you'll cum on my hand!"

"Yes! I will!" She heard her fingers scratching at the bed's covers, and then she realized she was still wearing the memento ring with Kristof's hair weaved under clear crystal. "I'll cum on your hand!"

And she was. She was cumming and screeching, tensing and heating up. Laileen would later wonder if she had been discreetly fed a drug. Her legs felt like airy whipped cream. It wasn't until her body was calm and her mind was nearly dead when Kristof's hand left her. He took a moment to slurp up the musky liquid from his fingers. She could smell it, but she was too weak to care about it.

Then he moved his body up, getting to a kneeling position before her nearly exhausted thighs, pulling her legs over his torso. Her little toes were in the air. The nails glistened almost as prettily as the crystal on her ring.

Laileen's eyes closed as she felt him enter her. He rammed in, loving her delicate, hot flesh with his cock, just as he had promised.

She was too weak to give any words or loud noises. She only made infrequent sounds, a coo here, a tiny groan there. Her pussy gleefully squeezed Kristof's cock as if that thick erection was its only reason for existence. She becoming high again. Her brain seemed to be dipped in the most addictive electricity.

And it continued for what seemed to be the longest time, the best time. Her body was fairly relaxed. She didn't have to do anything but accept the captivating invasion that wasn't truly an invasion. It was an intense caress and a heavy slap all at once.

When she had her final orgasm, Kristof followed her quickly, and he barked out these words, "Marry me!"

Quiet finally came to them, but it wasn't exactly silence. There was their heavy breathing. There was the slithering noise of their skin rubbing against each other as Kristof rolled away. There was the tapping of her fingernails against her memento ring.

A minute went on, and Laileen found a peaceful state. Her breath was steady. Her body was still. Her pussy was sore, but very satisfied. Her fingers cupped the oozing semen between her thighs as she gradually moved to a sitting position. Then she went to a wash basin, where a bowl of water and a rag waited on her. She wiped herself clean. Then she wrung excess water out of her rag and padded over to the collapsed man.

Kristof's long arm was over his eyes. His chest was gently moving up and down with his breath. His shrinking, but still quite handsome penis was coated in sweat, vaginal mucus, and his own semen. "I'll wash you up," Laileen said in warning, not wanting to startle him. "Of course," he murmured.

Laileen wiped the juices away and sighed at the mechanical nature of the task. It felt so unremarkable, especially when compared to the slick madness that had spun around in her brain only a few minutes before. Then again, she thought as she walked back to the wash basin, it honestly wasn't a fair comparison at all. It was like telling a little baby to beat an adult athlete at a race, a truly unreasonable demand.

"Laileen?"

The name floated up to her ears as she put away the wet cloth. She turned around, and even though she was a distance away, she noticed the pinkness in Kristof's cheeks. She didn't notice it before, when she was close to him. Why did she notice it now?

"Yes?" Her hands weaved together under her navel.

Kristof sat up and shuffled over to the edge of the mattress, putting his feet on the floor as he put on a surprisingly dignified pose, as if the mattress was a throne. One of his palms went to his knee. His fingers seemed amazingly long to her at that moment. It was almost as if they could hold an entire planet.

"I was very solemn, Sweetling, truly solemn, miserably solemn, even when I was the opposite of miserable." Kristof's grin blossomed like a naturally poisoned flower. "I'd love to have you as a bride."

Laileen seemed to digest her own heart, because it felt like it had dropped down into her belly. Despite the feeling, she gulped down her saliva, let her eyes slide down to Kristof's large hand, and said, "It's a jest, nothing more."

"You don't believe me?" His fingers tightened over his knee.

"Of course not." Laileen licked her lips. Her bare feet slide a bit closer together. "A bride should offer something to her new partner. I have nothing to offer you."

"Have you forgotten your identity?" Kristof got up then, stretching out a constricting noise from the mattress. The muscles in his thighs flexed so wonderfully as he approached her. "You're my Pet, my Lambkin. Who else would I marry, Jenerly Shantle?" That was a name of a famous actress who was considered to be very pretty and talented. Laileen was fairly certain that she wan an aristocrat's mistress. "No, Miss. I should have my Laileen as a wife."

He clasped her shoulders. His hands were very hot and heavy. They were nearly a burden to her frame. Laileen didn't want to see his face, didn't want to see the emotions there.

"Are you refusing me in the hopes of gaining a new present? Am I an opportunity for you?" He sounded like he wanted to laugh. "That's well and understandable, Sweetling." His breath tickled her ear. "What would you like? What will convince you to marry me? Would you like a new little house to live in? Perhaps a dessert of pineapple to display at the wedding, with you as the only one allowed to eat it?" Pineapples were very rare and luxurious, worth perhaps seven thousand or more Dakets per ripe fruit. Many people who could afford one simply let the fruit rot in their homes, serving as a decoration piece and a silent, if smelly boast of wealth. Some people simply rented a pineapple to give a temporary illusion of wealth.

Laileen shook her head. "I'm not holding out. I'm not trying to squeeze anything from you." She stepped out and away from his hands. "I simply don't understand why you'd want to marry me. There are plenty of higher class women to claim."

"But I want you." Kristof went to her. He embraced her, kissed her cheek. "I want you as my duchess."

Laileen had difficulty believing him.

Even when she read the engagement announcement in the newspaper a few days later, she almost didn't believe it.

She didn't fully accept the reality until after an idea came to her.

She noticed that Kristof had set up a box full of old clothing meant to be donated to the poor, but only after the expensive ribbons, lace, and precious buttons of gold, silver, and mother of pearl had been removed. This was normally a common behavior among the rich. They either donated or sold off their old clothing.

Discreetly, quietly, Laileen pulled out one of Kristof's older coats as she wondered about her skills.

Laileen wasn't a tailor. She wasn't used to working with men's clothes. Still, she understood the basic concept. She tucked the coat under her mattress. Then, as she accompanied Kristof on a shopping trip, she sought out a product for possibly the first time, instead of letting her benefactor force his tastes on her. She held onto his arm, and she said to him with sweet, shimmery eyes, "Oh, Kristof, I have a request. I want fine threads, beautiful, colorful threads of the best quality!" She sounded like a child asking for a new toy.

Kristof's eyebrows rose. His mouth was a small, pleasantly mystified thing. Even his cheeks seemed different, a little more hollow than normal. Then that mouth stretched out into a pleasant grin. "You'd like a few nice spools, Pet?"

"With the best threads!" Laileen said with true eagerness. "A rainbow of threads!"

Seemingly happy to give her such a thing, since she wanted it so badly, Kristof told her they were going to purchase all the spools of thread she could ever hope for, and while they were at it, they should go to their favorite dress shop and order a few nice gowns for her.

In the night, when Laileen should have been sleeping, she kept her lamps lit, and she examined the old coat with almost affectionate eyes. She pulled out the old embroidery with a small knife. Then she planned out a strategy for improving the coat.

It was on that night, as she examined her new threads, that she realized she could accept the idea of marrying Kristof.

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