Becoming Mistresse’s Pet

Becoming Mistresses Pet

When the door opened, I didn’t know this was going to be about me becoming the mistress’s pet; I just knew that the woman who stood in the doorway would forever change me and the way I responded to the world around me.

From the moment I walked into the room, she was assessing me like I was some piece of art. Her gaze was slow and deliberate. The apartment smelled of expensive candles. She brought two glasses of wine without asking me if I would like some. She passed me the glass, and our fingers brushed. Something fizzed inside of me not understanding this was the start of becoming mistresses pet.

I had gotten her name from a friend, who had said that she was looking for an open-minded assistant and more. This was to be my interview? I began to realize after the first half hour that this was so much more than an assistant job. She asked some of the regular hiring questions and some not-so-standard ones; she was watching my reactions with an intensity that made me squirm a little.

She said this position required me to be completely available,

and my time would belong to her. She made this distinction abundantly clear. I was to be part of her life, making sure her world was seamless. To become the mistresses pet was to develop the knowledge and instincts to anticipate her every need before she even knew it.

What followed were endless days and nights learning her life. He wants and needs. Her schedules, her sex life, how she liked her plate set at supper. Her moods at night were especially smooth. This was when she was most relaxed, most herself. She became warmer and more dangerous. I knew her choosing me to serve her in such a way was an honor and a mutual relationship.

When one night she pulled me to her, the rest of the room fell away.

It wasn’t something she had announced or spoken to me about; it was just a natural progression of what had been building as I was geing groomed to become mistresses pet. Her hands were unhurried and deliberate she explored my body, caressing and taking it all in.

She pushed me to my knees and reached into her desk and pulled out a collar. She told me to pull my hair up, and without another word, she fastened the collar around my neck. I had been claimed, and I felt joy and excitement. Any distance between us was gone. I had become my mistressess pet fully.

When I was not needed, I would curl up nearby, ready and present. She was not always soft, but she was careful with me. The nights we shared in body were exquisite, the nights I slept in waiting, I was content and wanted.

My life became her world, mistresses pet fulfilling her needs.

At the office as her dutiful assistant. We would pretend to be purely professional, but she told me exactly what to wear and how to behave like the good mistresses pet I was. When we were alone, she would use me as she saw fit.

At home, I had a different dress code. It was usually some very sexy lingerie sets with my collar and leash if I needed some additional guidance.  I lived to be her pet. I made her meals, I was her meals. My mind, body, and spirit became hers to guide. Sometimes she shared me with her lovers, and I would become their pet too. My heart and my body only wanted to please her.

Becoming mistresses pet was a journey.

I knew when I walked into that penthouse, I was one person, and when I walked out weeks later, I was someone else. I had been chosen; it wasn’t something I could explain, but I knew I walked differently.

Being a pet was not a lesser thing; it was an expansion, and it was a particular kind of enough.

If you want to hear all the steamy details of those weeks of your perfect fantasy girl’s life as a pet or about my public bathroom sex, give me a call.

Call Mya 1-800-244-0699