Page 43 of The Duke's Pet

“Sir!” She raised her head, her neck arching.

“This is where your tail will go, little kitten.” He applied pressure to the center of her pucker.

“Please God, no, not there.” Her eyes were wide and unblinking. Her heart rate picked up. Was he serious?

“Yes, here.” He eased his cool fingertip into her.

“Oh!” She balled her hands into fists. The sensation was so new, so dark and forbidden. How on earth had he come up with this idea?

“As I said, you will have to relax,” he said, pushing in some more.

“This is wrong,” she gasped then held the air in.

“Your body is mine, you have handed it over to me, and this is what I wish for you.” He pushed in, until his knuckle sat flush on her buttocks. His finger was slick, as though he’d oiled it. “I wish for you to have a tail.”

She huffed out the breath and tried to get used to the sensation of him being inside her... there.

“That’s it.” He leaned over, his jacket brushing her arm and shoulder and his mouth by her ear. “You’ll like it, you’ll soon understand that. Before long you’ll be begging to wear your tail.”

She wasn’t sure about that, but she was getting used to the invasion.

And then, just as she thought that, he withdrew.

“Now for the tail.”

She trembled again, a full body shake that made her teeth chatter and her knees wobble.

If he noticed he didn’t say anything, instead he set the tip of the plug over her once again tightly closed rosebud. Like his finger had been, it was cool and greased.

“I have been looking forward to seeing you wearing this,” he said almost as if to himself. “So pretty.”

She reached forward and gripped the lip of the table, then went up onto her toes as he applied pressure.

“Steady now, this first time will be the hardest to get used to, but it won’t hurt, it will just feel strange.” He placed his free hand on the small of her back, holding her still and firmly against the table.

“Oh... oh... oh...” She was panting as the plug went higher, stretching her hole and filling her. The length of the tail brushed the back of her right leg and behind her knee, but she hardly noticed that. Her asshole was being widened, so wide, a nip of pain created a groan deep in her chest.

“Nearly there,” he said. “Nearly... there.”

There was a popping sensation, as if the plug had fully entered her and her ass had closed around it. She lurched forward; the dense heaviness in her butt followed her.

“That’s it.” He rubbed a soothing circle on her back then smoothed over her ass cheeks. “You’ve taken it, and it’s so pretty.”

His voice was wistful and she used the calming property of his tone to slow her breathing. She was embarrassed to have something in her ass but equally relieved that it didn’t hurt, just felt peculiar.

“You can stand,” he said, slipping his hands up to her shoulders and tugging.

Jemima used the table to support her as she gingerly straightened. The plug shifted within her behind and the tail swished against the back of her legs.

“You have no idea how delightful you are,” he said.

She stared at his face, at his eyes. Emily had warned her of quirks and unusual desires and demands but this she could never have dreamed up.

“Now one more thing for the day.” He reached behind himself and picked up a small pallet containing a blob of black paint and a tiny brush. “Hold still.”

She was hardly daring to move so it wasn’t hard to do as he’d instructed.

Once again he covered the tip of the brush in paint, then carefully, with a look of extreme concentration, set about coloring the end of her nose in, and then fashioning whisker-type lines over her cheeks.

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