Charlotte’s pet

The day seemed to last forever for Charlotte as she moved from room to room, giving each only as much cleaning as necessary to meet the threshold to make sure she wouldn’t get fired. At long last, her room schedule cleared, she clocked out. Sitting in her car, she opened her shirt enough to peek in on Oleg to make certain he was still inside the cup of her bra. She could barely contain her giddiness as she drove home. Still residing with her parents, she pulled into the wide driveway and parked before racing up the stairs to her bedroom. Even by normal sized standards, Charlotte’s room was quite spacious, burdened perhaps with an overabundance of stuffed plush toys ranging in size from slightly larger than him to almost her size. The color palette was hues of pinks mingled with ivory. There was a door to her walk-in closet and another door that led to the bathroom she and her younger sister shared between them. Sitting down on her four poster bed, she carefully pulled her bra forward and fished him out.

Setting him down on her pink and white quilt, “We’re home now,” she said, big smile on her pretty face.

“Now, maybe a phone?” he asked, grateful to no longer being smothered by her ample breast flesh.

She frowned and shook her head slowly from side to side. “There will be no phone. You belong to me now,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked, puzzled.

“See, I’ve been thinking about this, I mean, like totally a lot. I think I found you for a reason,” she said.

“The reason is because other girl made me small, now I need to make phone call to tell my people what has happened,” he said, voice impatient and tinged with a hint anger.

“And then they’ll come and take you away. That’s not going to happen,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re mine now,” she added, beaming smile.

“No,” he said, crossing his arms.

She laughed, a pleasant sound. “Yes,” she replied.

“Listen, stupid girl,” he started. She raised her hand up and slapped the bed near him, the force of the blow on the mattress strong enough to throw him off his feet.

“It is unacceptable for you to talk to me like that and I will not tolerate it!” she said vehemently. “If you misbehave, there will be consequences,” she warned with a slight cock of her head, a serious expression on her face.

Climbing back onto his feet, he favored her with a menacing look. She raised her hand again.

He let out a breath and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you want to own me, what good is having tiny little man?”

She smiled. “There are all sorts of things we can do and that will be part of the fun, trying to figure those things out.”

“Please, just let me make phone call, there are people concerned about me okay?” he asked, hoping to make an emotional appeal.

Still smiling, she shook her head. “Sorry.”

He frowned and shook his head. Taking his penis in his right hand he began to urinate on her quilt.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, a horrified look on her pretty face as his pee splashed down on her favorite blanket. Reaching down she picked him up around his torso and hurried to the door leading to the bathroom she shared with her sister, dropping him in the deep end of the toilet. He puckered at the cold water. Moving toward the front of the toilet into the shallower water, he pulled himself to standing and looked up at her.

“You will not pee on my bed!” she said angrily, wagging an admonishing finger at him.

He smirked, “Cyka!”

“What did you say?” she asked, not understanding the Russian word, but knowing the tone was certainly not a friendly one.

“I call you bitch,” he said, emphasizing the last word.

“Bitch?” she repeated, frustration evident by the flush in her cheeks. Standing up, she lifted her skirt and lowered her panties before plopping her shapely rump down on the toilet. “How’s this for bitch?” she asked as she began to empty her bladder. Hot urine splashed down all around him, the smell of urea strong in the confines of the bowl, it seemed like a torrent was pouring out of her, causing a foam to develop on the surface of the water. He pushed back into the deeper water, but there was no escaping the pee. Looking up passed her tight little crinkled anus, he watched the thick stream gush out of her urethral opening for what seemed like an impossibly long time. Finally, it stopped, she dabbed herself with a tissue and dropped it into the water with him. Pulling her panties up as she stood, she turned and leaned over the toilet, hand on the handle.

“How do you like that?” she said, tone challenging him to just try and defy her again.

He pushed passed the dissolving tissue and through the froth to stand up again at the fore of the bowl. He raised his hands palms up toward her, coughing up some of the pee he had inadvertently ingested, “No more,” he said between hacks.

She smiled. “Good,” she said. “Remember who is in charge. If you want to test me there are worse things I could do. Do you understand?”

He nodded, still coughing.

“Who is your mistress?”

He pointed at her.

She smiled. “And you are my slave.” Grabbing another piece of paper off the roll, she draped it over him and removed him from the toilet and put him into the sink. Turning the faucets on, she pointed, “Clean yourself off,” she said.

Stepping under the weak stream of warm water, he rinsed himself off, enjoying the sensation.

“You see,” she said, “When you behave I can be nice. From now on I will make sure there is a place for you to do your business.”

He ignored her, letting the water wash away the remnants of Zara’s dried saliva and Charlotte’s piss. She turned the taps off. Picking him up, she wrapped him in a face cloth and dried him off.

Suddenly the door opposite the one they’d entered clicked and started to open, but Charlotte pushed it back closed, twisting the small lever to lock the door. “I’m in here Virginia!” Charlotte barked.

“Hurry up because I got to go!” said a female voice from beyond the door.

Taking him out of the facecloth, she dropped him back into the cup of her bra before going over and unlocking the door.

Virginia pushed her way into the bathroom, a surly expression her young pretty face. She was blond like her sister, though steaked with green. Leaner and a couple of inches taller than Charlotte, she possessed similar features and it was easy to tell they were sisters.

“What were you doing in here?” challenged the younger sister, hands on hips. Charlotte snorted and turned to leave.

Looking at the toilet, Virginia said, “You forgot to flush. Gross!!”