A Royal Appointment.

Life has been changing for Clea Lamont, ever since she was bred by her pet Savage. Now seven months pregnant she finds the frustrations of maternity interrupted by a summons to the Royal Palace by The Queen herself.

-o-o-o-

“Ma’am!” Jeanie exclaimed, coming into the room to see Clea standing atop a chair, scowling at the bookshelf as she tried to pry a novel from the top shelf. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Trying… to get… this book.” Clea hissed. “But one of you morons had packed them in… too… tight.”

“Ma’am, what if you fell?” Jeanie scolded, pulling her mistress down from the chair onto the floor and quickly fastening the buttons of her shirt so she was actually covered. “I’ve always admired your independence, ma’am, but with you all in a motherly way you really must be more careful. You’ve got the children to think about now after all.”

“Oh, piss off Jeanie.” Clea sneered, pushing her maid aside and cupping her immense belly protectively. Jeanie pursed her lips; cheeks flushed a little as Clea tore her shirt back open to free her chest. “I need new clothes; my breasts are swelling again.”

Jeanie nodded, pausing before she turned to leave. “Ma’am, may I speak freely?”

“If you must.”

“I know you’re frustrated, ma’am. But you’ve been snapping at the staff… more than usual.” Jeanie sighed, “And I think miss Savage’s language has been rubbing off on you.”

“What do you mean?” Clea squinted.

“Er, well, you did call Annie a scrawny cunt on Monday when she misplaced your parasol.” Jeanie winced.

Clea scowled and stalked to her favourite armchair, dropping down heavily and groaning. “I will make an effort to be less… confrontational.” She surrendered, pinching her brow. “I’m hungry, fetch me something.”

“At once, ma’am.” Jeanie nodded, turning and scurrying to the door. She let out a surprised squeak as she found herself staring up at Savage and disappeared down the hall as the imposing slave-girl moved past her to smile down at her mistress.

“Everything alright, mistress?”

“Perfectly fine, dear.” Clea sighed, resting a palm over her swollen stomach and petting it. “Just a tad frustrated.”

“Not long now.” Savage cooed, kneeling and slowly reaching out to place her hand over Clea’s. “Another two months.”

“And then what? Pregnancy has made my body flourish, but it will be weeks before I’m fit to be seen in public once the little brats are born.”

Savage’s brow furrowed and she pursed her lips, recoiling from Clea’s belly. “I… I thought ye were… happy that we were havin’ a family?”

“I am too young for a life of domesticity.” Clea sniffed. “Being shackled to this house by these dependants is precisely why I detest men. So eager to ruin my body and trap me into a life of maternity. And yet here I sit, fat and bloated and utterly useless.”

“I… I understand, mistress.” Savage mumbled.

Clea sighed and rolled her eyes, taking her slave girl by the ear and tugging her close. “You did this to me, Savage. You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself.”

Savage sighed. “Of course, mistress.”

“Oh hush, come here and let me see my favourite plaything.” Clea smiled, releasing the girl’s ear and licking her lips. Savage blushed with pleased embarrassment and stood, presenting her cock to her mistress, coaxing it to attention with a hand. For all her talk, Clea’s eyes sparkled with excitement as Savage draped her meat over her palm.

Savage bit back a moan as her mistress’ lips slipped over her cock, her tongue toying with the sensitive flesh at the base of her head. She didn’t mind Clea’s attitude, her mistress’ supposed anger was mostly out of habit. She ranted and raged about her pregnant state, how it would ruin her figure, how it made her ache and how she’d have to look after the children, but Savage saw how she caressed herself at night as they shared their bed, how she sang to herself and smiled as she looked at the nursery. Savage knew she would miss the soft maternal glow in her mistress’ eyes once their children were born. As for all her talk about being ‘too young’, Clea was approaching thirty-nine. Women her age were either long with family or were firm in their intentions not to have one. It was mostly vanity that kept her acting like a woman half her age.

“Mistress, I came to remind ye of our appointment this afternoon, you haven’t forgotten, have ye?”

“Of course not.” Clea snapped. “It isn’t for hours yet, and I’m hungry.” She returned to slathering Savage’s rod, making it explicit just what she was hungry for.

“I… assumed you would want to be prepared with time in hand.” Savage continued, letting out a whimper of excitement as a hand cupped her balls, squeezing tenderly. “I… I’ve been… bathed and… prepared already.” Clea sighed and glanced over her lover. She did look excellent, raging mane of fiery hair washed and conditioned and sculpted into its wild shape. Her muscular body had been bathed and oiled and treated so her skin practically shone. Her finest bonds had been slipped around her throat, wrists and ankles, quality leather all embroidered with Clea’s initials, just to hammer home who owned the magnificent northerner.

Clea redoubled her effort, slurping up and down Savage’s rod until it pulsed and spewed a thick, potent load into her mouth. She’d come to adore the taste of her Savage’s spunk over the past year and a half, and enjoyed it whenever she pleased, sometimes direct from the source, sometimes from a fine goblet she had Savage masturbate into, once even over her meal. She swallowed and licked her lips, placing a few soft kisses against Savage’s throbbing rod to clean it up.

“Very well, I suppose it will take a little longer to prepare than usual anyway, we may as well start.”

Savage smiled, cheeks burning, and helped her mistress up out of her seat.

-o-o-o-

“I think I might be getting’ used to these carriages.” Savage said half-heartedly as she assisted Clea up into the seat. 

Her mistress had been made into the pinnacle of pregnant beauty, somehow combining elegance and her maternal glow with her outfit. Her dress was a dark green, low cut to show her cleavage and tight against her belly. It flowed down to her ankles and ended with a neat golden trim in the pattern of a celtic knot. Clearly, she had been saving the dress for an important occasion, which this was of course.

Clea huffed and toyed with her necklace, shuffling in her seat impatiently. She was nervous, Savage could tell, and perhaps rightly so. She reached out and took Clea’s hand, squeezing her gently. Her mistress allowed herself a small smile and cuddled closer, resting her head on a freckled shoulder.

The trip was long and uncomfortable for both women, for Clea due to poor support and for Savage thanks to the usual nausea that travelling gave her. Clea at least managed to hide her discomfort as she stepped from the carriage and stared up at the royal palace. She took a breath and smoothed her hair before yanking Savage’s leash, marching her up to the gates where their escort waited to take them to the Queen.

“Your Majesty.” Clea purred, bowing her head as they entered a small, cosy lounge off to the side of the royal residences. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t curtsey?” The Queen smiled slightly and nodded, eyeing Savage as she knelt and bowed her head before rising and standing to attention.

She was not as Savage had anticipated. The stories and portraits had always painted a picture of a stern, powerful woman. As skilled in diplomacy as she was at statesmanship. What Savage saw was a small, kind-faced, steel-haired woman. She wore a simple black dress and pearls, with a small, sleek golden circlet nestled in her hair.

“Ah, Rosie!” Clea grinned, enjoying the immediate scowl Lady Marron gave her from her seat across the lounge. “So good to see you after so long! How have you been?”

“Perfectly well, lady Lamont.” Ambrose smiled coldly.

“I’d heard you two knew each other.” The Queen smiled, sitting behind her desk and lacing her fingers. “I hadn’t realised you were friends, that’s good, it will make your task all the easier.”

“Oh, we’re fast friends your majesty.” Clea cooed, “Almost inseparable Rosie and I.”

“I envy you, lady Lamont.” The Queen sighed sadly; her eyes drifted to Savage again. “In more ways than one… she is yours?”

“My one and only.” Clea purred as Savage helped her down into one of the chairs, stroking her cheek fondly. “She is magnificent, isn’t she?”

“She is.” The Queen breathed. “Would you mind if I…?”

“No, please.” Clea chuckled, “Be my guest. It would be an honour for you to enjoy her, your majesty.”

“Hmm, don’t be so keen lady Lamont.” The Queen breathed, beckoning Savage to her desk and reaching out to wrap her hand around her manhood. “I’m already tempted to purchase this beast from you and add her to our stables.”

“Your majesty keeps northern girls?” Clea frowned.

“Since my husband passed away, I required… company.” The Queen sighed, running a hand down over Savage’s belly, marvelling at the strength of her muscles. Her fingers tangled in the short nest of red hairs that crowned Savage’s rod, toying with it for a moment before sighing and releasing her. “Forgive me, I’m a lonely old woman.”

“Your majesty, you are barely fifty.” Clea laughed, “And your beauty remains just as it was when you were twenty, if only we were all so lucky.”

“Hah, I was warned you were a flatterer.” The Queen smiled. “I wonder if all the other rumours are true?”

“You refer to my children?” Clea said, losing her smile in an instant.

“Some say they were fathered by your pet here.” Lady Marron said pointedly. “But you wouldn’t stoop so low, would you now… friend?”

“Rosie my love, you know there’s no limit to how low I’ll ‘stoop’” Clea replied sharply, hands moving to her pregnancy. “The children are Savage’s. If I am to have a family, I would prefer it be sired by one I love, rather than some cocksure male who would chain me away behind my motherhood.”

The Queen looked a little startled and cleared her throat. “I… suppose that’s understandable. I was required to marry and to bear my husband’s heirs… there was a time I was resentful of that and the… expectations thrust upon me.”

“And I really must thank you, Rosie.” Clea smiled humourlessly. “If your pet hadn’t attacked my dear Savage, she would not have had to leap to my defence. And I would not have seen what an excellent father she would be.”

Lady marron’s scowl deepened, her grip on the armrest of her chair tightening.

The Queen cleared her throat. “I feel I owe you both an explanation for why I summoned you, if we might get down to business?”

“Of course, your majesty.” Both women said at once.

The Queen frowned but shrugged and rang a bell. A pair of soldiers marched in, leading a woman by a chain. They shackled her to the edge of the desk and bowed, before leaving. The woman roared into her gag and thrashed about in her bonds, pulling against the chains and sending her whole body shaking. Savage let out a quiet gasp as she watched the newcomer stop fighting and glare around the room with smouldering eyes.

She was incredible, the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Strong and sexy and burning with a fury that only made her all the more captivating. Behind a mane of silky black locks, dark eyes and full lips hid. Her body was full and feminine, with mighty breasts that heaved with every angry breath she took, and wide hips that shook her fat, round rear as she stamped against the ground. Her cock was pulsing with arousal as she fought, standing to attention, the thickness and length of Clea’s own forearm.

“Oh my.” Savage heard her mistress coo. She turned to see Clea staring at the newcomer as well, a look of ravenous hunger on her face she had never seen before. Clea wanted this woman like she’d never wanted anything in all the time Savage had been hers.

“Where did you find her.” Ambrose breathed, equally enraptured.

The Queen smiled. “Two weeks ago, a number of the northern tribes banded together with the intention of attacking Oban. They elected themselves a king, this was his queen. When my generals put down this little rebellion, they took her as spoils of war, and delivered her to me. I would greatly like to enjoy her, but as you can see, she is uniquely… wilful.”

The woman yanked at her chains and managed to move the heavy oak desk an inch, helpfully proving the Queen’s point.

“You want me to break her in for you?” Clea asked eagerly.

“I would like for the two of you to subdue her, yes.” The Queen replied. “The two of you have a reputation for exceeding at this sort of thing. I am employing you both to bring this creature under control.”

Clea laughed and shook her head. “Your majesty, I’m honoured, but really I am quite capable of handling this alone.”

“Excuse me?” Ambrose snapped. 

“Oh darling, let’s not embarrass ourselves.” Clea grinned, patting Savage’s ass sharply, “I have broken in not only this delicious thing, but five others equally as wilful. Whereas you… well, the fiasco last February speaks for itself.”

“Ladies, please.” The Queen sighed, “You will work together to break this lovely thing in. Do I make myself clear?”

“If you insist, your majesty.” Ambrose smiled weakly.

“Wonderful.” The Queen said brightly, standing and smoothing down her dress. “I have arranged your accommodation here in the palace for your stay, this office will be yours to use.” She nodded quickly before striding out, leaving the two women and two savages alone.

“Well I suggest you go get comfortable, Rosie.” Clea said, snapping for Savage to help her up out of her chair. “I’ll handle this.”

“So speaks the woman seven months pregnant.” Ambrose hissed, “How do you propose to tame this beast when you can’t even get out of a chair without help?”

“I have my ways.” Clea purred, stroking a hand through Ambrose’s short black locks. “Go rest up, sweetheart. You need your beauty sleep.”

“Every time I think your ego cannot possibly grow larger you manage to surprise me.” Ambrose growled. “You are lucky I am above this. Fighting with a pregnant heifer like you is a waste of my time.” She turned on her heel and stalked away.

Clea sniffed and took Savage’s hand, pushing her down onto the chair and mounting her. “M… mistress?”

“No more talk.” Clea sighed, hiking her dress up and sliding Savage’s rod into her waiting cunt. She let out a low croon of delight and smiled. “Ah… and that makes it all better.”

“Mistress, I worry this won’t end well.” Savage groaned, Clea rolling her hips urgently against her, belly pushing against Savage’s muscular abdomen. “Th… this woman would be a challenge even… if… ye weren’t distracted.”

“Distracted?” Clea hissed, fingers pinching Savage’s ear and squeezing until the girl whined beneath her. “I am not distracted.”

“Y… yer... hurting me.” Savage growled, her grip on Clea’s hips tightening in response.

“And you’re insulting me.”

“Ye have a habit of showing off where Lady Marron is concerned, mistress.” Savage said, baring her teeth in a pained snarl, pushing herself up into her mistress a little harder. Clea moaned and released her, taking her cheeks and kissing her as she bounced. “I just… worry.”

“Just fuck me you animal.” Clea rasped.

“As you wish, mistress.” Savage sighed defeatedly, bringing a hand to Clea’s neckline and freeing her breasts, kneading one of the heavy fleshy orbs until she felt wetness against her palm. “You… you’re leaking, mistress.”

“S… stop… stop it.” Clea groaned, “On… on my back.”

“Yes mistress.” Savage obeyed, lifting Clea up by the hips and laying her down on the couch, taking up position and pumping inside, desperate to release the throbbing pressure building in her loins. A thin stream of creamy milk was oozing from one of her nipples. Savage rolled the wetness between her fingers before stroking her hand back over the soft orb of flesh and continuing to play with it.

“Ahn! S… Savage… cum inside me!” Clea demanded, hands locking around Savage’s throat, trying to strangle her but not having the strength. Savage merely growled and bowed her head, jabbing her hips forwards into Clea one last time and letting loose, spewing a load of her sperm deep into Clea’s twat.

Clea crooned with delight and moved her hands away from Savage’s neck, cupping her belly and basking in the warmth of her sperm inside her. “Mistress, I really am worried. Won’t you please be careful?”

“Stop trying to hide your accent and ask me again.” Clea grinned, eyes still closed.

Savage pursed her lips. “Mistress, I really think ye should be a wee bit more careful here. This woman seems dangerous, an’ ye can’ be getting’ distracted by Lady Marron.” She paused. “Especially because yer carryin me babies.” Clea giggled and patted her cheek.

“There we go.”

“Mistress please.” Savage whined as Clea sat up and dabbed at her breasts with one of the cushions of the lounge.

“I will try not to show off too much, darling.” Clea sighed, standing up cautiously and smoothing down her dress. She moved cautiously over to where the woman was standing, watching the two of them with a venomous glare. “Now, as for you.” she smiled. “You are beautiful, I truly mean it. You are a work of art. It will be a pleasure breaking you in for her majesty.”

The woman looked her up and down, nose wrinkling as a low growl echoed through her gag. Clea sighed and patted her cheek, grinning as she jerked away. “In time, you’ll be as good a slave as my Savage, if not better.”

Another growl escaped the gag and the woman reached out to grab Clea, falling short thanks to the chains. Clea sighed and turned, taking Savage’s dangling leash and leading her from the room.

-o-o-o-

“Mmmhm.” Clea moaned, laughing as Savage’s tongue explored her sex. “You’re getting better.”

“I practice, mistress.” Savage breathed pushing her lips to Clea’s glistening clit and suckling.

“With whom?” Clea frowned, forcing herself up and scowling down at her redheaded pet.

“Jeanie… and Annie.” Savage blushed. “And Clara, once.”

“My staff is sleeping with my slave.” Clea growled “I’ll have to see to that.”

Savage straightened up between Clea’s legs, brushing back some hair and smiled slightly as Clea’s hands moved to replace her tongue. “Hmmm, I didn’t tell you to stop.” the Savage girl sighed and pushed closer, kissing Clea’s belly gently.

“May I please hold you?”

“How will you do that with your cock inside me?” Clea asked.

“I could use my fingers?”

Clea chuckled and tilted her head. “I suppose that’ll do, for now.” Savage smiled and nuzzled close, pressing her lips to Clea’s cheek as her hand moved to push inside Clea’s petals. “Hello there, my darling.” Clea cooed, turning her head and rubbing noses with her pet.

“Hello, mistress.”

“Mmmm. Your fingers are working me wonderfully, love.” Clea sighed, eyes squeezed closed with contentment.

“Have ye noticed yer appetites growing since ye got pregnant, mistress?”

“Are you complaining, sweet?”

“I never complain, mistress.”

“No… you’re a good obedient girl.” Clea sighed. She reached up and began toying with her nipples, soon she was lactating again, sweet-smelling milk coating her fingers as she played with the over-sensitive nubs. She glanced down at her fingers and smiled, bringing it up to her lips and sucking on it. Savage frowned; forehead pressed against Clea’s silver-blonde hair.

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s rather nice.” Clea said thoughtfully. “Try some.”

“Mistress, I’d rather not.” Savage said, nose wrinkling.

“Aren’t you an obedient girl, Savage?”

“I… am.” Savage sighed, allowing her head to be guided down to Clea’s breast and to her teat. Her lips slowly parted and latched onto the puffy pink thing, she hesitated a moment before sucking. Clea’s milk was sweet and creamy, not at all what Savage had expected. She pulled away and made a face, rolling the flavour over her tongue. Clea giggled and stroked her cheek.

“Was that nice?”

“Honestly, mistress.” Savage said, “I can’t say.”

“Hmm, w… well. just keep using those fingers of yours, I’m… close.” Savage nodded and focussed her attention on pumping her fingers deep into Clea’s snatch, her thumb flicking against her clit as she moaned and panted like a wanton slut. Savage was almost painfully hard, throbbing against Clea’s thigh as she fingerfucked her mistress. “Oh yes! Savage you slut! Don’t stop! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Clea howled as she came, falling back into the pillows and cooing softly. Her thighs quivered as her petals pulsed, sopping wet and stinking of her arousal. Savage couldn’t help but lick her lips as she pulled her hand free of the mess, admiring the wetness covering her digits before lapping them clean.

Things were quiet for a few moments before sat up, slipping from the bed and slipping into her negligée, a tiny, frilly, semi-transparent thing Clea that blossomed at the front as her belly protruded outwards. “Sleep well, my darling Savage.” Clea cooed. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“I should come with you, mistress.” Savage pouted.

“Love, I’m pregnant, not an invalid.” Clea tutted. “I’ll be fine, just sleep.”

-o-o-o-

She moved almost silently, bare feet stepping softly on the carpet up to the door into Ambrose’s suite. She nibbled her lip with excitement, thinking about what she might see when she opened the door. Would Ambrose be nude? Or would she be in underwear? Or a negligee like her own. Oh, to see those long, long legs bare and soft. Or those elegant little breasts so often concealed by tight dresses. She giggled quietly and pushed open the door.

Ambrose looked up, startled, mouth open ready to scream before she saw Clea and scowled. She slammed down the book she had been reading on the side table hard enough to make the candle flicker. “What do you think you’re doing Lamont? I knew you were a pervert, but this is a new low.”

“Good evening Rosie.” Clea smiled, slipping inside and closing the door behind her.

“Get out of my bedroom.” Ambrose scowled. “Or I’ll call for the guards. Do you really want to humiliate yourself in front of the Queen?”

“I only want to talk.”

Ambrose sneered and sat up, “Well, I don’t want to speak to you, so leave.”

“Why are you so cold, Rosie?” Clea asked, feigning a hurt expression and toying with her hair. “I just want to be your friend.”

“You don’t have friends, Clea.” Ambrose growled, “You have playthings. You tease and torment and poke fun at people, that doesn’t make you friends with them, it just means they have a higher tolerance for you than others.”

“You wound me.”

“The truth hurts, I suppose.”

Clea sighed and flashed a grin, fingering the books on the bookshelf suggestively. “My Savage just ravished my sex with her fingers. She has such a talent for making me cum.”

“How wonderful for you.” Ambrose sighed, picking up her book and bringing it between Clea and her face. Clea smiled, padding slowly closer.

“She’s so big, and so very passionate. I’ve never been taken so deeply in all my life.”

“That must be nice.”

“And for all her muscle, she’s so wonderfully tender.”

“Mm hmm.”

“The night she impregnated me was incredible. We’d just left your ball; she had humiliated your little blonde filth. I had her in the carriage all the way to my home, she fucked me so hard I thought the carriage might tip. I was pinned, helpless against the wall as she ravished me, so deep and so hard I almost broke. When she came it was like a flood. Searing hot. It made me glow inside for hours. When she pulled out at last, it poured out of my sex like a waterfall. God the smell won’t ever leave me, I’ll remember how wonderful it was until the day I die.”

Clea reached the end of the bed and crawled up onto it, her belly brushing against Ambrose’s feet as she advanced on her hands and knees. “I have her almost every day now, Rosie. In my study, in my bed, sometimes I take her in the garden. I let her mate with me like a beast until we’re spent. I drink her sperm like nectar, I consume her lust like a feast. If only you had a girl like her, you could know just how wonderful it feels sometimes to just get fucked.”

“Will you stop!” Ambrose shouted, voice hoarse and embarrassed. Her cheeks were burning a dark red as the book came down and Clea saw her face. “St… stop it.”

“Oh Rosie, I just want us to be friends… is that so bad?” Clea cooed, taking hold of the covers and yanking them down. Ambrose let out a strangled shriek of terror and tried to snatch them back, making Clea giggle as they wrestled over the fabric. She took the opportunity to admire Ambrose’s slim, subtle body. From her marvellous jaw to those lovely tiny breasts over her belly to… to…

Her grip on the covers loosened and Ambrose fell back, clutching the covers to her chest. There were tears sparkling in her eyes. “G… get out! Go away!”

Clea blinked in confusion. “I don’t…”

“Don’t talk, just… get… out!” Ambrose howled.

“You’re a man?” Clea frowned. It seemed impossible, but it was true. She’d seen Ambrose’s cock hanging between her legs, slim and small and semi-hard from Clea’s lewd monologue. It wasn’t like Savage’s, or any of the other dickgirls from the north. Those cocks were huge and potent, strangely unnatural yet so very, very enticing. Ambrose’s cock was… normal. A little small perhaps, but ultimately normal.

“Get out!” Ambrose sobbed.

“I don’t understand.” Clea said quietly. “I… you’re not like Savage… you’re… male?”

“I’m not!” Ambrose snapped, embarrassment and sadness melting into fury in an instant. “I’m not! I’m Ambrose Marron and I’m a woman and if you tell anyone I’ll… I’ll…”

“I… I’m sorry.” Clea mumbled, “I didn’t know.”

“You don’t know what it’s like. To not belong in your own body.” Ambrose sniffed. “I was always… wrong. I grew up knowing something wasn’t right and… and when I found out what, when I started being Ambrose… it was all so clear.”

Clea reached out and gently took her hand, squeezing it. Ambrose looked at her suspiciously but didn’t pull away. “I had to live as someone I wasn’t for ten years before my parents died and I inherited the family fortune.” She said quietly. “Now I can be me… everything was going so well… I suppose that’s all ruined now.”

“Why?”

“You expect me to believe you’ll keep this quiet, Lamont?” Ambrose sniffed. “Even if you don’t just expose me outright, you’ll let my secret slip eventually, and my life might as well end.”

Clea leaned close and pressed her lips to Ambrose’s. The kiss was slow and tender before it broke, leaving Ambrose blushing, mouth slack in a confused pant. “I…”

“I always thought you were so beautiful.” Clea breathed, “That you were different. Now I know I was right.”

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.” Clea hummed, hands moving up to Ambrose’s bra, unhooking it easily with well-practiced fingers. “May I?”

“I… y… yes?”

Clea’s hands quickly discarded the lacy thing and began to explore the small mounds of Ambrose’s breasts, petting and kneading them with the upmost care before she ducked down and began to tease her nipple between her teeth.

“C… Clea… what are you doing?” Ambrose whined.

“I can stop, if you want?”

“N… No, I just… why?”

“I wasn’t just teasing you for fun, Ambrose.” Clea hummed, pushing herself snugly against the trembling woman. She could almost feel the poor thing’s racing heart against her as her breasts all but swallowed Ambrose’s own little things. A hand moved gently down and took hold of Ambrose’s cock, drawing a startled gasp from her lips. “Is it alright if I touch?”

“Yes.” Ambrose croaked, stifling a moan as Clea’s hand began to work up and down her shaft. Clea gently tipped Ambrose’s head back with her free hand and began suckling her way around her jawline down her throat to her collarbone. 

“I’m sorry if I was an ass.” Clea murmured, lips leaving little red marks behind as she worked around Ambrose’s neckline. Ambrose quivered, body rocking against Clea’s immense belly as her hand moved back and forth over her length. “I like to tease, but it’s only for fun. If I made your life harder, I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s… It’s alright.”

“You are so beautiful.” Clea sighed, gently pushing forwards and kissing Ambrose again. This time she was not so stunned as to fail to kiss her back. This time there were hands carefully pulling at Clea’s shoulders, this time Ambrose’s lips pushed against Clea’s with hunger.

Beneath them, Ambrose’s cock pulsed. Clea looked down and moaned as Ambrose shot her load over her belly and over Clea’s hip. She whined quietly and fell back, allowing Clea to scoop up the mess and clean it away.

“W… wait, where are you going?” Ambrose croaked as Clea sashayed towards the door.

“My pet will wonder where I have got to, beautiful.” Clea smiled. “If she comes to find me, it might raise questions about you.”

She paused in the doorway and smiled, “Don’t worry, we’ll be working very closely these next few days.” She cooed over her shoulder, blowing a kiss before disappearing.