Plaything

The housekeeper looks perplexed. "But you'll both be able to see my pussy!"

"Good!" Announced Hamsini, fighting back a fit of the giggles, eventually asking, "...and what do you think, Swan?"

I yelped happily and decided to sniff said-pussy every time I saw it.

The bungalow is small and secluded and has a walled back garden that is not overlooked by anything. The three of us settled down to an easy routine which I will not go into except to mention that the roles of 'Mistress', 'Servant' and 'Pet' rapidly become blurred and that Anika slept in Hamsini's king-sized bed more often than in her own room and quite often neither of them bothered dressing, particularly at weekends.

Most evenings, I spend several hours seated at the computer working on an essay or an assessment with my darling rider curls up at my feet. She has taken to licking and kissing my toes, but I don't care: I love her more than life itself and this is all that counts, isn't it?

My rider's bedroom is the largest in the little house and is actually two knocked into one: but all the same, with her large bed and my basket, there isn't much room. Anika has the tiny box-room to herself so that she can have some privacy... She has too until my darling decides to remove most of the internal doors: she insists that I walk around on all fours and this makes it easier for me. No, honestly, I do not mind for I am well used to it. I am, after all, her pet and do not object.

I think her Mother expected her daughter to get off by humiliating me just like she had tried initially. It did not take long for her to realise that this part of our relationship did not appeal to the gentle and kind-hearted Hamsini. There is a major personality difference between Mother and Daughter – Mother is a control-freak.

It is a Tuesday and my lover is away at university... I am at a loose end. Anika is busying her self around the bungalow tidying up things that are already tidy. Mischievously, I push a pile of magazines off the lounge coffee table right in front of her.

"Oh, Hansa, you are a naughty girl!" She chides me but does not sound very stern, instead she bends down to pick them up.

I see my target right in front of me so I stick out my tongue and lick her pussy-lips from behind.

She squeaks and jerks upright. This is the fourth time she has fallen for this in the past week

Anika spins around. "What will Miss Hamsini say when I tell her? I'll bet that you get a smacked-bottom. Bad puppy-girl!"

I whine and stick my bum up in the air swishing my tail from side to side until she laughs. "Oh, Hansa, what am I going to do with you? If I play with you all of the time, I'll never get any work done!"

She kneels down and begins to pick up the magazines but this time I have ideas other than mischief. This time I grab hold of her slim waist, I lean forward against her back and take her completely by surprise.

"Hansa!" She squeals as my weight forces her down onto all-fours. She tries to wriggle away but I cling to her with all of my not inconsiderate strength.

I feel my clitoris stiffen to its full (almost) three inches and ease forward. She is ready for me, I know this as I can smell her arousal and can how wet she is with the end of my oversized clitty.

"Stop being a silly girl and let me go." I rub my little rod against her lips and get the surprised response of: "Hansa?"

I slip my clitty into her waiting cleft, I enter easily with only the minimum of force necessary and hear the taller blonde's pleasurable gasp of surprise: "Oh!"

I push forward until my mound is pressing against her arse and use my hands to pull her back as tightly against me as I can. I am rewarded with a more drawn out: "Oooh!"

I smile as I jiggle my hips to make sure that I am in the right position and relax. I cannot draw back too far as I have only got about three inches to play with, but I know from experience just how I can put it to good use. The old adage that it's not what you have, its how you use it has never been more true... You men with your five or six inches don't know how well off you are... Pity cocks don't come with a book of instructions... You might know how to use them if they did.

No, I carefully ease back and then thrust forward, pulling her hips backwards as I do so. I repeat the moves and gradually build up a rhythm of pull back – thrust forward... Pull back – thrust forward... Pull back – thrust forward. I increase speed and the force of the thrusts rapidly until I feel her well padded seat slapping into me. By now I am getting a moaning response of: "Oh! Oh! Oh!" Which is in time with my short, forceful thrusts; each "Oh!" ending with the slap of flesh against flesh.

After a minute or so I feel Anika stiffen and convulse with the first of a series of orgasms... A few more thrusts and I join her: the orgasms aren't simultaneous. But who cares? I certainly don't, I just enjoy the waves of sexual pleasure as they slam through me becoming more and more intense. The yelps of "Oh!" have built into involuntary screams as the woman that I have mounted begins to spasm and and twist uncontrollably. I lose control as well as I feel her slump sideways onto the carpet. I am still inside her as I black-out and lie twitching uncontrollably against her well padded backside. The orgasms are still rippling through me as I regain consciousness. I am still clinging to her hips as if my very life depended upon it.

I roll away and lie on my back staring up at the ceiling. Her head and torso suddenly enters my line of vision. She stares down at me. "Wow!" Is all that she says. She repeats it very quietly. "Wow!"

I feel her fingers exploring my pussy and open my legs to give her better access. Not surprisingly she finds something that she does not expect. "Hansa! You've got a little dick!"

I see her frown. "Oh, you are a special puppy-girl, aren't you!" She proclaims as she begins to play with it.

Of cause, being a clitoris and not a 'dick', it is erect and I am ready to go again in next to no time. There is no messy ejaculation to recover from so I do not need much persuasion before I mount her again and off we go. I ride her to orgasm after orgasm as we have the time of our lives. Her dress is discarded and so is her bra and we are both as naked as two puppies when Hamsini arrives home in the early afternoon. The whole house reeks of our arousal and so she is not surprised to find us mating in the middle of the lounge. She doesn't say anything: not that either of us are in any mood to listen. I forget about her as there is only one thing on my mind and it is blonde and I am humping it.

I feel hands grab me around my fleshy hips and suddenly I lose my rhythm entirely as My Rider slams into me none too gently with her eight inch strap-on. It is my turn to gasp in surprise as she thrusts into me again and again. There we are: the blonde, the red-head and the brunette. Hips thrusting: tits bouncing as we lose ourselves in each other's passions. By now My Rider is doing all of the work. Her thrusts are pushing me into Anika with at least as much force as I was using earlier and the three-way shrieks of pleasure are getting louder and louder. Eventually we tire ourselves out as Hamsini rides us both to one final explosive orgasm and we roll around on the carpet like the three animals that we have become,: we are laughing uncontrollably.

Needless to say, it takes a long time for us to recover from our three-backed-dance.

NOTE: By now I am beginning to realise that I have been a pet-girl for a whole lot longer than the two hundred days of my reckoning. There are chunks of time missing: at this stage I believe that weeks at a time have been obliterated from my memory. No, not during the previous year, but before that. Days would pass and a woman's hair would suddenly become two inches longer: or the grass on our lawn would grow three inches overnight. I recall poppies going straight from bud to seed head without the need for flowering... No! There is not a glitch in the Matrix, there is a glitch in my head.

I think about writing my darling a note, but in the end cannot be bothered... The answer will turn up, if I am but patient.

Day Two Hundred Plus– Time passes – I am put on display...

Christmas comes and goes, and by mid-January my beloved Rider's second term at University is underway. This term passes also and soon it is the summer. I breath more than a sigh of relief when I discover that Hamsini has absorbed enough economics to pass her exams with a middling grade... We count the first year as a success.

Soon we are back at home... Well it is MY home now... This I know deep down. I love our rooms and walled garden. I know that I will never leave – not if I have anything to do with it.

First evening back is out of the ordinary: I am dozing curled up in one of the white armchairs in our playroom; Anika is back learning how to be a humble maid all over again while My Darling Rider is off doing something somewhere. The move back to the "Big House" has hit Anika the hardest. In effect she ran the little bungalow on Hamsini's behalf: made sure that everything was clean and tidy, that food was purchased and that meals were laid on at the correct times. Now she is just another little cog in the big household machine whilst at the bungalow, she was the machine. She really grew into the role of our beautiful domestic goddess. Anika: tall and slim with long blonde hair. I say "tall" because five foot ten seems tall to me. Her hair is ash blonde and hangs down to her plump and rounded arse or, whenever she leans forward, hides her magnificent 38D's. The hair and breasts should come as no surprise as they are one of Mother's little "house-rules", although they might be better described as "laws" that all female, non-family members are obliged to obey. The only reason that Anika's breasts are not larger is that she would be out of proportion and hence would not look right. Anika: I have spent hours playing with her magnificent superstructure and agree... Not only does she look perfect, but she feels perfect also. Okay, she is no beauty: her face is too square and a little on the long side; but so what? Her willing personality is loving and kind and she has the ability to be the centre of a group without flaunting it.

Suddenly I realise that I am not alone when a feminine "cough" wakes me. I awake with a slight start and see Dawson, the butler standing a respectful three feet away. She bows politely... Unnecessary as I do not count as a person.

I smile at the woman in the stern black business suit with the brushed back hair secured with a black velvet bow; the short skirt that still hides everything and the business-like, highly polished shoes. Her face is expressionless: Dawson never comments, never judges.

"Excuse me for interrupting your relaxation, Miss Hansa, but Madam requests the pleasure of your company in her drawing room." Dawson's voice is as precise as her appearance.

I look at her with more than a hint of puzzlement on my face and she smiles. "If you would be good enough to follow me, Miss. I will be happy to conduct you there."

I notice that she is holding a black-leather dog lead which I allow her to clip onto my silver collar. "This way, Miss!" Her voice is sympathetic but has an undertone that indicates that she will not tolerate descent. Dawson, after all, runs the household.

I drop instantly onto all-fours and trot at heel at her side. She is sympathetic and does not pull at me when I do not make the correct manoeuvres. She also walks at what is a comfortable pace for me and it is obvious that she has done this kind of thing before.

As we walk through the house, I am informed that Madam is hosting a family gathering and wishes to display me to the other ladies. For only the second time, I ascend the stairs and enter the Family's part of the luxurious mansion.

The bottom floor, where I live with Hamsini, is taken up with the kitchens, the laundry and all of the little rooms that the servants and other staff need to keep the household running. The rooms occupied by My Rider and myself are in the basement of the east-wing: the utility rooms take up the rest.

The next floor up, the ground floor is taken up by all of the family rooms: the reception rooms, the dining room, the library, the studies and offices that are needed to keep them all occupied. For, or so I am told, the mansion doubles as the Head Offices of the Family Business Empire.

The next floor up, the first floor, is taken up with the various family bedrooms and bathrooms. While finally; right up in the roof are the servant's quarters.

Oh there are other rooms, rooms that would not normally be found in a family home: a computer room, for instance and a cafeteria for the 'day-staff' . The people employed at the HQ of various companies managed from here.

Today, I am led up the main staircase at the front of the house and into the reception hall. Behind this is the long gallery, a 150' long room running across the front of the house. It was originally intended as somewhere that the family could take exercise in inclement weather but now it is exquisitely decorated and arranged to resemble some sort of long, endless art gallery.

Dawson leads me part way along this gallery until we arrive at one of the many side passages. We turn into it: Like the rest of the house it is panelled in pale oak. Part-way along is another of the identical doors. The butler knocks on it quietly and opens it – we enter.

It is a bigger room than the 'blue drawing-room' where I was interviewed by the policeman last year. In some respects it is as much an office as anything else.

Dawson leads me in and I find myself under the scrutiny of about eight Indian matrons: the 'Aunties' that Hamsini had once laughingly warned me about! Dawson bows towards Mother. "Miss Hansa, Madam!" She announces as she deftly undoes the clip at the end of my lead which she placed on the silver tray on the little table by the door.

I gaze around not knowing what to do and hear many gasps of surprise and admiration. The Aunties are staring at me.

"Ah, Hansa, come and sit by me." Mother exclaims and indicates a large satin cushion placed on the floor by her feet. I scamper over and sit on it.

As I feel her hand stroke my hair and mane I become aware of the comments from around the room:

"So this is my granddaughter's pet!" -From a grey-hired lady wearing a sky blue sari... I give her my best smile.

"Is she an android?" -This from the younger woman seated in the armchair on the other side of Hamsini's Mother.

"No, Tarika, she's all flesh and blood." Mother answers proudly, then adds with a chuckle. "And before you ask, she's not a cyborg either."

There is another middle-aged Auntie seated to the other side of Tariki; she looks up from her knitting, gives me an appraising stare then addresses 'Mother'. "Padma, dear, I understand that our software division has been equally successful?"

Mother Padma smiles proudly and strokes my mane, causing me to shiver in appreciation. "Oh yes: 'Stella'; our artificial receptionist has successfully passed the 'Turing Test'."

Grandmother looks up, her dark bird-like eyes sparkle. "Turing Test?"

Padma smiles proudly. "It can fool people into thinking that they are speaking to a Human Being and make rational decisions on their behalf.

I lean over and rub my shoulder against her leg.

Grandmother nods. "I thought that we had agreed not to create 'Artificial Intelligence' because of the possible risks?" Her expression is that of a fierce canary as she challenges Padma.

Never the less, Mother Padma only laughs musically. "Oh you worry too much, Mummy, we haven't even come close to developing 'Artificial Stupidity' yet. Stella only gives the impression of intelligence."

"So do most of the people that I know!" Grandma replies stubbornly.

The next to speak is Auntie Deepti, the solicitor, she looks up from the documents and the laptop on the coffee table in front of her. "So, Hansa, I hear that you have been doing my niece's University coursework for her."

I stare aghast at her as does everyone else, including Mother who picks up a tiny silver hand bell and tinkles it.

The Door opens and the redoubtable Dawson bows herself in. "Yes, Madam, how may I help you?"

"Dawson, please be good enough to ask Miss Hamsini to join us."

"Certainly, Madam." The Butler bows herself out.

There is much murmuring in the drawing-room over the next few minutes: I take the opportunity to take a good look at the Aunties. They are a formidable looking group and are seated in a horse-shoe with Mother in the centre. Grandma, however, is cackling with laughter. "I always knew that that girlie would go far: see how she utilizes the resources that are available to her?"

I am not sure that I like being classed as a resource... A bit demeaning, that! A look across at Grandma who catches my gaze and gives me a friendly little wave.

I am slowly beginning to realise that this is rather more than a family gathering: this is confirmed when another of the Aunties points at me as she asks : "Just how much has this little bitch cost us so far, Padma?"

Mother looks up. "About £2,000,000 from the r&d budget to date: there is probably another £50,000 to be found, but she is more or less complete. So, without further ado, let me introduce you all to 'Hansa', the prototype 'Lady's companion'; although, after a certain incident last year: perhaps I should add 'bodyguard' to her specification."

She stood and helped me to my feet. As I stood there, with all of my assets on display, I felt myself blushing which caused Grandma to begin cackling all over again.

Padma continues. "She is very dog-like, both in loyalty and behaviour; and as would be expected, she is very easy to train." She looks at me. "SIT!"

I instantly drop into the pose that imitates a dog sitting: I am kneeling but with my bum planted on my heels and am leaning forward with my hands pressed to the floor."

Another Auntie interrupts. "That tail: surely it can't be real!"

I raise it and swish it from side to side and am rewarded with a surprised gasp: strangely I feel pleasure at her response.

Mother Padma moves in front of me and holds out a hand and commands: "Give me your paw!"

I lift my right hand and place it in hers. My faithful-dog act earns a chuckle or two which I feel is faintly rewarding.

"So!" An Auntie interrupts again and demands: "And just what can she do for her owner that a perfectly well trained dog cannot?"

"I thought that it was obvious, Indira: sexual intimacy! You cannot be sexually intimate with a dog!" Mother announces.

"Pah!" Interrupts Grandmother. "I had a cousin in India who was!"

This causes a titter to run around the room but earns a glare from Mother.. "Yes, well..."

"And a goat!" Grandmother cackles much to Mother Padma's increasing annoyance.

She glares at the elderly woman who ignores her and gives me a another friendly little wave, naturally, I cock my head to one side and swish my tail as a reply. Oddly enough, I am enjoying Mother's discomfort. She is a woman who must be in total control: a control-freak, if you will: but her own Mother clearly does not give a damn about anything. "Mother!" She purrs in annoyance. "Will you please stop interrupting. I really do not wish to hear about your cousin!"

The old woman laughs again. "Your cousin too!"

"MOTHER!!" She shouts.

The old woman pantomimes being afraid and hides her face in her hands then peeks out cheekily. I really like her!

Just then the door is flung open and my rider slouches in: she is clearly unhappy about something and glares at her Mother pointedly.