The Housepet Pt. 01

"So. The room. The arrangement I suggested. Did you reach out to the last lodger I gave you as a reference? Did Leah tell you the arrangement we had? "

"Uhm. Yeah, and yeah. Well not in any detail but I get the general idea."

James McClean sat opposite. Jamie. Not really her type, too mainstream, a shade too old, a bit too full of himself. Not the tattooed, muscled, skinhead, bad boys that occupied her nightly fantasies. Nor the more generic bad boys who had occupied her spectacularly unsuccessful dating history. But easy on the eye and charming. And for the last fortnight, her Sugar Daddy.

He had the look of an academic but was vague about the source of his, clearly considerable, income, questions brushed away with "Banking since Uni, then Fintech in the last couple of years. I've been fortunate". His dark tousled hair was swept messily in contrast to his neatly trimmed beard. Both were streaked with grey. Zara wondered if his locks were worn as a taunt to his peer group, with their bald-patch hiding buzzcuts. It would not be out of character. He had decent body for his age, if sadly lacking the biceps she lusted over, and had twenty years on her 26. He was old enough to be her father and she was old to enough to know better. She had slept with him. Twice. She had been in this house before, albeit under cover of darkness. So why was she so nervous under his questioning?

She was here to discuss a most unconventional proposition. One that had stuck in her mind as soon as he proposed it, in a text, a day after their last liaison. No matter how much she tried to dismiss it, she could not deny she was intrigued by the concept.

"Hmmm that's annoying. I told her to be specific with any serious candidates. The devil is, as they say, in the detail. "

"I do kinda get it. I stay here. Rent free. No bills. And in return I'm uhm," Zara could feel her face flush. She looked at her shoes and said in a rush, "Free use. I'm a free use sex doll."

She felt a flush of heat between her legs as she said the words.

He looked at her quizzically, slightly frowning. She couldn't tell what he was thinking but it wasn't the reaction she expected. Thoughtful rather than lecherous.

"I don't like the term. I always think Sex Doll sounds like a plastic thing with a mouth like a puffer fish," he made an O with his mouth. "not really my style. I prefer FuckToy, capital F capital T and no I don't really know why but the frustrated creative in me thinks that's the way it should be written."

The heat between her thighs built.

He paused and drained his mug.

"Well I'm sure you've seen enough of the kitchen. Shall we do the tour, and if you are serious we can discuss the details. Any questions?"

Any questions? Like a hundred, she thought but she said;

"What about pets? Do you have any? It's just that I love them but have allergies."

"Well yes of course but well, it's you. You would be the house pet. After all why do people have pets? For companionship in a big empty house, to sit on your lap on a winters night perhaps? Or take out for walks at the weekend? That's what you will be for. I like dogs well enough but I'm away too much to properly care for them, and I'm not cruel. Had a cat once but she massacred so much of the local wildlife I felt awful. Spent so much in donations to the RSPB to salve my conscience. When she died I didn't replace her. But a couple of years ago I started having pretty Sugar Babies as live in Pets. And I find if we are absolutely clear upfront on expectations both ways it can be a good arrangement all round."

Zara felt almost faint. A Pet. His Housepet. No, she was no man's pet. She feminist and was studying for her Education Masters and after that, with a lot of work and bit of luck she would have a successful career teaching, shaping young minds. Teaching her girls to smash glass ceilings. The thought of being an older man's Pet was not making her wet. Well, it obviously was making her wet but it was just the taboo, the fantasy. She didn't really want it. And if she didn't agree to this should really be a Pet, that's not how it would work in reality, she would make sure of that. She gathered her thoughts and remembered her questions.

"Leah said you were kinky. Do you have a dungeon or something like that? These houses have cellars right?"

"God no. I may spank you a bit and I will I will absolutely boss you around a lot. But you can search the house as much as you want and you won't find any whips or chains never mind a dungeon. And on that note, do you want the tour? "

He had given her Leah's profile on the same on the same Sugar dating site Zara used. It showed her location was now London, corroborating the reason he gave for her moving out. Her comments had been positive but brief "Listen it's a sweet deal. He's less of a wanker than he seems once you get to know him. He leaves you alone most of the time. The sex is ok. Bit intense and not really my thing. Bit too 50 shades for me tbh but looking at your profile that's right up your street right? You into all that Kinky Shit?" and that was it.

"Right you've seen the entrance hall. It's a hall. With an entrance. Let's have a look at what you won't have seen."

She had indeed. She caught her breath seeing the high ceilinged wide hall with an antique chandelier and the grand staircase leading up to the upper floors in daylight. He showed her the big lounge, perhaps twice the size of her aunts. And the library, "Well it was meant as a dining room but I've made it into a study / library. You're welcome to use it. With Leah there were plenty evenings where one of us was in the lounge and the other working or studying in the downstairs library. It's a nice space."

He has a nice line in understatement, I have to give him that.

"This would be your room. It's a nice room. Decent size and gets the sun in the morning. "

Decent size in this case translated to Zara as the largest room she would ever have slept in.

"And I'd encourage you to use this room too. It would have been a nursery when the house was built in the first few years of the 20th century but too small to be a proper bedroom. So previous lodgers have used it as a walk in wardrobe or dressing room,

"This is my boys room so off limits. They're here every Friday. And usually a couple of other nights a month as I can best arrange with Fi, my ex wife."

"I have an en suite on the 2nd next to my master bedroom so the main bathroom on this floor is yours. Well I may want have a bath occasionally, after a day on the hills for example but that wont be frequent. So no queuing for the bathroom in the morning.

Her own bathroom. He said it in such a casual way that suggested he had no idea what that meant. Typical man. She loved her nieces and nephews, just like she loved her old flatmates. But she hated fighting over the bathroom.

"So when you say A Room, it's one room to sleep in, a dressing room, and the first floor bathroom is predominantly mine? Plus we can negotiate on evenings where we're not, well where you don't require my Services, that one of us can use the library. "They were back in the kitchen after a quick look at his modern, minimally decorated, almost Spartan master suite on the 3rd floor converted attic.

"That's about the sum of yes. It's a big house Zara. I don't need much. And just to be clear I cover the bills, the broadband is decent and I have a pretty decent TV package. And it's not a student flat. You're not putting stickers with your name on milk in the fridge. Help yourself to anything and if there's anything you want me to add to the order just put it on the kitchen chalkboard."

"Are there other duties? Do you expect me to cook and clean?"

"I'm not looking for a skivvy. Pick up after yourself but I have a cleaner come in once a week. I cook. I'm happy to cook for you when we're both around. Or you can fend for yourself if you'd rather. "

"I am away quite a bit. I'm down in London next week for a couple of days. And that's normal, every couple of weeks. I tend to go into the office most days. I'm an Old Dog suspicious of New Tricks such as working from home. So you will get the place to yourself a lot. You mentioned how it's almost impossible to study at your aunts, with your nieces and nephews climbing over you? Even on a week where I am here you will still get plenty time and space to study."

"But shall we cut to the chase? I have a high sex drive and specific tastes. I don't do serious. For a number of reasons, partly I don't want to introduce someone new to the kids and then it doesn't work out. And partly because I've had my heart broken too many times. So I do casual. I don't expect you, or anyone really, to find my behaviour admirable. But I try to be fair, be kind and be honest with my partners.

"I want you available for sex at least three nights a week. The sex will be much longer than 5 minutes. But you know that already" She did. The sex had been good, better than good. She faked the first time but she was so nervous she wouldn't have orgasmed anyway. The next time she came on his tongue as he sucked her clit. He'd fucked her well. He had a lovey cock. Stop it. Stay focussed. This is business, not pleasure.

"If you have an assignment due, or on your period (doesn't bother me but I know it does some women) and really cannot be available then tell me as soon as you know. Otherwise I will choose the time. The last thing I want is married sex where we get diaries out and work out our sex windows for the week ahead."

"That is fine for you to say but, well. I'm not an actual sex doll. What if I'm just not horny at all? There are practicalities for a woman you know ..."

He nodded, unperturbed, "Two things. One, Lube is a marvellous invention. Two. Edging and Denial. I will control your orgasms. So you can play with yourself as much as you like. I'll encourage it. Sometimes I'll even instruct you to play. But you only cum when I give you explicit permission. Have you tried edging and denial before? No? Ok we'll go slow and need to communicate but in time it should make you pretty much constantly needy. And if not, lube."

"I do need you to be honest with me. This is meant to be fun for you as well as me. I'm dominant, I can be selfish but I don't want to fuck up your life. If you feel anything we do impacts your studies or normal relationships tell me and we will change things."

Zara nodded, dazed. She was listening and understanding but didn't want to open her mouth in fear of what she would say. Or how she would say it.

"You already know what I'm like in bed. I will always take the lead. But as your profile says you are Submissive and I know you take instruction well. As we relax together I might be a little bit rougher but not hugely. I haven't spanked you yet. I will. Soon. I mentioned last time about exploring collars and leashes and we will do that soon, fits nicely into the Housepet idea.

"I want to control what you wear in private. So if you agree I will go lingerie shopping for you and also get a few other outfits so you look cute at all times indoors.

"In the same way I talked about taking pets for walks I would like to take you out on dates. Maybe once a week although I appreciate that may not always possible. Somewhere nice dinner for and drinks then home so I can fuck your brains out. We can discuss how much you are willing to allow me to show you off as a trophy girlfriend. I would like to very much but if you prefer to be more low key I can understand. It's not a huge city and I know you're training to be a teacher and your reputation will be important.

"In private you are my FuckDoll, my personal pornstar. My whore. But you have a life outside and I would like to support you. And I hope this gives you a calm, quiet environment to study without you needing to get a part time job, you can just focus on your studies for the rest of your course. And I get a hot no-strings playmate for the next few months. I know it's not for everyone, I know I'm a pervert but hey, least I'm a self aware and honest one.

"Don't answer, go home, sleep on it. If it's not for you then no hard feelings. But please let me know either way."

A few minutes later she was sitting in the driver's seat of her aunt's car that she borrowed for the trip across town, her hand buried in her panties. She had been desperate to touch herself for since the tour. She came in under a minute, picturing herself lounging in her big light filled bedroom as she held his head between her thighs. He could call her a pet all he wanted if she had a big beautiful house much to herself.

*********

The next morning Zara looked into the mirror and tried to be objective. She had a pretty face. Pretty-plain not Pretty-beautiful but still. Not bad. Her dark hair and eyes were basic but she thanked her Yemeni mother for those long bold brows and thick lashes that she always thought were her best features. Her lips, however, would never be considered full, and it took a grotesque amount of contouring to give any definition to her cheekbones. But overall it was a face that could look good on a night out, with enough time to make up herself up to be presentable. Less so in the morning. Perhaps that was why she found it easy enough to attract men, but never hold on to them for long. Apart from Oliver of course, but the pain of his betrayal and the mess the break up had left her in, less than a year ago, blacked out any happy memories from their two year relationship.

As a girl she desperately wanted to fit in, to hide, to fly under the radar. But a big brown girl at an almost all white school could never hide. She starved herself in a vain attempt to become petite and dainty. She no longer hated her body and tried to dress to disguise its shortcomings. That didn't mean she liked her body. At 5"6 she was still not petite but having stopped growing at 15 she felt cheated that the gangling teenager didn't turn into a tall graceful adult. Her arms were too long, and despite hours at the gym her Arab arse would always be fat, not Phat. Thanks for that mum, was that the price of the lashes? Which she would not have minded if it was balanced out with curves elsewhere but her small breasts felt out of proportion. She wasn't hideous, but basic. Average. Commonplace. The irony was not lost on her that she would have killed to be average at school.

But this average, basic girl might have snared a sugar daddy to give her exactly what she wanted.

Jamie's offer made good business sense. She couldn't stay at her aunt's loving but chaotic house any longer. She loved them all but it was a challenging course and she was falling behind. She couldn't face going back to a student flat with a bunch of room-mates she didn't know. If she hustled hard at sugaring, sent lots of messages and then did the painstaking filtering out the weirdos and fraudsters to set up regular dates she probably could afford a place on her own. But the ongoing time and effort that would take sort of defeated the point of having time and focus to study.

She had put on her profile that was submissive on a whim and with an idea that was what older men were looking for in a side piece. She wasn't submissive, not really, but she could fake it. Sure she had the usual submissive fantasies late at night but all girls did sometimes didn't they? She was a career girl, boss bitch and feminist. She could handle Jamie, give him enough of what he wanted so he didn't notice she was really in control. Right?

She read the message typed out on her phone for a final time.

"I'm In. No objections to anything you proposed and we can work out the finer details. You said I can move in whenever? I have no classes on Thursday, and not much stuff to move over. Just clothes and books really. That work?"

Send. Fuck.

A few minutes later her phone buzzed. "Wonderful. I'm so delighted Zara. Thursday works for me. I can work from home and help out. Only bring clothes you want to wear to Uni or on wear on nights out with your friends. And period pants I guess. I'll buy you underwear and things to wear around the house. Send me your sizes. I'd guess size 12, 34b but let me know for certain."

"Good guesses, right on both counts. Looking forward to seeing what you choose for your new FuckToy."

*************

*****

"You comfortable? Shall we begin?"

She was dreading this moment all day. It was Thursday evening and she was in. Jamie had been surprisingly helpful, using his car to do a couple of runs from her aunts and bonding with her uncle as they carried boxes up to her new room. As far as her uncle was concerned she was renting a room from a friend of a friend who didn't like his house to be left empty when he was away on regular business trips. Uncle Martin was a straightforward sort and took it all at face value. Aunt Niamh raised an eyebrow when Zara told her but didn't say anything.

Jamie collected take-out from the neighbourhood Thai while she unpacked and they shared a relaxed dinner, eating out of cartons and drinking white wine together like a conventional pair of housemates. It was the most natural she had ever seen him and he made her laugh with a dry sense of humour and an unexpected willingness to mock himself.

She wasn't scared of sex. She liked it. She often wished she could be less of a good girl and more of a slut, which was partly behind her careful, cautious experiment with sugar dating. But she liked to be in control, she liked to plan and know what was coming. And knowing that she had agreed to be Free Use unnerved her. Would he just bend her over the kitchen table after dinner and unzip? But when he asked the question she simply nodded.

"I'm not going to fuck you tonight. We'll start slow. Get you used to being shamelessly objectified. To being a Toy. A Pet. It might feel strange at first but I think if you relax and embrace the feeling it will become natural. Have you looked at the gifts I left in the dressing room? No? Go upstairs and try them all on. Choose your favourite lingerie and masturbate for me while you wear it. There's a toy and lube there if you need either. Try to edge, get close to orgasm but don't, stay on the edge. If you don't get close that's OK. Just relax and play for 30 minutes. Understand?

"Good Girl. After you play take a few minutes to unwind. Then get dressed in an outfit of your choice from my purchases. It doesn't have to be lingerie. There are cute but casual outfits there that might feel more appropriate for your first night. Then come downstairs and tell me how it felt. I'll probably spank you then we'll watch a movie then go to bed. Separately."

Take your time. We have all night. Take what's left of the wine with you, I'll open a beer and wait. Do not rush. I'll be here. Now go."

An hour later she is laid on her new bed, gently stroking her clit and wet lips as she brings herself close to the edge for the third time in 25 minutes. She chose a long line basque style bra with straps for stockings for her playtime, with a matching lace thong, both in black lace. Even with the straps left undone, (she couldn't quite see the point of fiddling with suspender clips when she was alone) it was the sexiest underwear she's ever worn. She kept the thong on for a while, her hand in her panties as she played with her pussy and built towards her first edge. That felt an implied part of his instruction. But after a while she slipped them down her legs so she could get comfortable, spreading her legs wide and plunging her fingers into her wet folds, edging to his instructions. It feels odd knowing he is downstairs but still controlling her, she pushed those thought from her mind and surrendered to the sensation, how good it felt to play slowly, keeping herself aroused, close to orgasm but carefully avoiding falling over the edge into the O. She knew she would obey, she would do as instructed.