My Little Pet - Amy's House (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

The headstrong eighteen-year-old stood up from the bench, displaying her height advantage over Bobby with a sniveling roll of her eyes, then sauntered back down the path. She didn’t wait for him to answer.

After several steps, Nadia’s body was sucked back under the magnetic pull of that foot, hammering from sky to earth on every mighty stride. The encounter with Bobby, despite not visibly upsetting Amy, had increased the sopping flood of gooey sweat leaking from her every sole pore. Most of it was soaked up into the platform of the Birkenstock, but with Nadia’s bare body in the way, she was forced to act as a filter. The poor woman’s skin started to prune after a while like onset trenchfoot from the continued submersion in this claptrap of pooled sweat and monstrous slapping soles.

By the time Amy stomped back into her home, now obviously frustrated and even a little emotional, Nadia was sticking to the girl’s foot with every colossal march. From insole to arch, Nadia was transferred, alternately adhering to the funky leather platform and the beefy haunch of Amy’s oily sole. She honestly couldn’t say which was more disgusting.

The Birkenstocks were peeled off Amy’s feet, and Nadia was peeled off the girl’s sole. Hopeless, the little woman was held in her owner’s hand. She could see Amy’s eyes turning raw, on the verge of tears, which was certainly how Nadia felt as well. It made her angry, even, to see the giantess dare get upset over someone she had feelings for, when the very same thing had happened to Nadia, only in far more dire circumstances.

Amy carried Nadia to the bathroom. The six-foot-one behemoth teen drew a bath in the bowl of the sink, filled with warm water and soap, and rinsed off Nadia. This was a highly unpleasant experience, especially because Amy’s sadness over Bobby’s rejection had made her less focused. Her fingers were rough on her pet as she scoured Nadia’s body for suds, wiping away traces of the foot-musk. Nadia cried out several times in pain as those giant thumbs kneaded her ribs and stomach, but she went unnoticed.

A little while later, the quietly wounded Amy curled up on her bed, and cupped Nadia in her palm. She studied the little three-inch life in her hand, then actually managed to summon a smile despite the tears welled in her eyes. This eerie countenance caught Nadia off guard.

“Well,” Amy sighed. “I may not have him. But at least I have you, Queenie. And I’ve got so much love to give, you know? I’m gonna have to kiss somebody. Not Bobby, but somebody else, someday. So it might as well be you, for now.”

Nadia didn’t even put her hands up in defense. There was no use. She knew that. So, unabated, she was aggressively mushed into Amy’s wet and pouted lips.

Indeed, Amy seemed like she’d had this kiss pent up, and meant to use it on Bobby. Her smooches, dense with saliva and warm air, were not as gentle and casual as usual. There was hungry affection between those lips today. Almost instantly, Amy wrapped her lips over Nadia’s entire head. Not expecting this, the little woman chose this late moment to try fighting back, flailing her arms and kicking her legs against the restricting fingers gripping her down to the wide palm. Her screams echoed off the squishy cavern of Amy’s gurgling mouth.

Unfortunately, Amy was too fraught with intention and need. Her tongue swirled several times around Nadia’s head in her mouth, as she might do to a piece of hard candy, yet also languished with slower circles, licking the young woman’s hair and matting it down between the bumpy taste buds. It was the French kiss which Amy must have wanted to give to Bobby. He had the power to refuse, but Nadia did not, and all her shouting and punching couldn’t do a thing about it. For several long minutes, Amy revolved Nadia around her slobbery cheeks, and even sucked half of her body up inside her mouth for a thorough and desirous tongue bath. Every second of which made Nadia want to vomit.

And now, the little woman had yet another bit of awful perspective between Amy and Sarah. While Sarah’s insistence on sloppy kisses and calling herself Mommy was creepy and unsettling, this was far worse. Amy didn’t want to be a mother to a pet. She just wanted the little three-inch thing to be a practice tool for passionately kissing her crushes. It made Nadia ill to imagine, but she knew she’d willingly go back to Sarah forever, and allow her to baby her to death, so long as she was near Matt, and away from the ravenous mouth of this enormous teenage train-wreck.

“I guess I overdid it a little bit, huh, Queenie?” Amy asked, smudging her lips of saliva, and wiping it off on Nadia. “That’s okay. You’re a pretty good way for me to get better at this. Even if it’s not Bobby I get to kiss, sometime I’m gonna kiss somebody who’s big enough to kiss me back. You’re so pretty, I might even kiss you if you were big enough. But you’re not, so you’ll just help me get good, instead. Anyway, now that you did something nice for me, and let me try out my Frenching on you, I’ll give you what you want instead.” Her eyes darted from her toy to the summery, glistening soles below.

“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Nadia roared pointlessly.

“Your favorite place in the whole world!” Amy said. She started to lower Nadia’s naked body down toward the hulking twins of her bare feet, then stopped herself. “It’s kinda cold up here in my room, isn’t it?”

“NO!”

“Maybe I should go turn the thermostat up? I don’t want you to get cold while you’re playing on my feet.”

“FUCK YOU!”

“I love you too, Queenie. Even when I’m sad about dumb boys, you make me so much happier.”

Nadia disappeared in the void of her own thoughts. She was thirty years old: an independent, creative, caring, and intelligent adult woman. She was raised by good parents, went to school, became a successful photographer and painter, and had spent years with a man named Matt whom she’d expected to marry one day. Then suddenly, all of that potential and agency was stripped away from her just like her clothes. Her hopes and dreams were crunched in an instant, and instead, those years spent as an autonomous adult only amounted to the time prior to her current and probably eternal role: that of nude foot-pet toy for a bratty, self-centered, sweat-oozing teenage giantess. A girl who was Nadia’s junior by years, and yet now owned the right to play with and torment her forever. What sort of universe and system of reality was so callous as to allow these unfair circumstances to unfold, when Nadia had worked so hard to have a good life?

“That’s it, little Queenie. Get in there nice and good,” Amy giggled, shoving Nadia’s face between her two biggest and smelliest toes. The buttery, mealy flesh sealed itself around Nadia’s entire head and lifted her easily off the ground. “I wonder what it would feel like if you started kissing me down there, in your favorite place. Hmm. Maybe Sarah’s got some good training tips?”

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THE END (for now)