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Claire’s knees ache something awful. She’s been sitting at the door for over an hour, waiting for Ruby to come back home to her. Dinner is warm on the stove and everything is so clean it glows.
Finally, the door opens and Ruby steps inside. Claire is quick to bend down, tongue on Ruby’s black patent leather boots. They taste gritty and harsh, but Claire slobbers over them like her life depends on it. (And it does, in a way.)
“Good puppy,” Ruby praises her, voice high and phony. “Can you stand up for me?”
Claire stumbles to her feet, legs aching from the sudden movement. She shivers as cold air hits her under her tiny skirt. Ruby doesn’t allow panties in the house. Ruby likes to keep her bitch convenient, ready to use at any moment. And Claire’s body can’t help but comply.
When Ruby presses her fingers between Claire’s legs, she’s warm and wet. Her pussy opens nice and easy for Ruby, begging for whatever Ruby will give her. Claire’s breath stutters as Ruby brushes a thumb over her clit, sending a shock of pleasure up her body.
“Such a slutty puppy for me.”
Claire grits her teeth, trying to keep herself from whining. It’s horrible, what Ruby has turned her into.
Ruby’s hand leaves Claire soaking and empty. Desperate.
“Get dinner on the table,” Ruby snaps. She walks away just like that, leaving Claire in a stupid skirt with her pussy drooling.