His claws scratched below my breasts, saliva dripping. My hands hands grabbed at his furry neck, loose skin sliding over strong muscles as it snapped ...aws shut an inch from my nose. I hissed, tail twitching. My legs curled, planted on his belly, thrust.The dog snarled, tumbling off my body. The pair of us scrambled to our feet, brush rustling. I went into a low crouch, spitting fury, blood welling from scratches across my torso, each line burning pain.“I need to be pretty for Master!” I yowled. She, however, misread his disappointments, “Oh! I assure you master, they aren’t fake at all, they’re all natural.”He opened his mouth, then closed it, his eyes drifting down just for a moment at the impressive bust. To think they were natural. It beggared belief.“You can call me whatever you want to though, Master?”“I get that. But, well, what’s your name?”She blinked, “My name? It’s Lucille, but I must stress you can call me whatever you want. As long as the house belongs to you, as do I. And. More

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