Not before she finishes her drink

The praise was a warm shiver down Suki’s spine, a stark contrast to the cool milk on her tongue. She lapped at it again, a clumsy, kittenish motion that sent a small splash over the rim. The act felt absurd, degrading, and yet a fresh pulse of wetness slicked her inner thighs, the sensation muffled by her soaked panties. She was their pet, and she was drinking from a bowl.

As she bent her head to the task again, the first touch came. It was Cathy’s hand, not in her hair, but sliding around to cup one of Suki’s tiny, lace-clad breasts. Her thumb found the stiff peak of Suki’s nipple through the damp fabric and pressed, a slow, circular pressure that made Suki gasp against the milk.

“Shhh, kitten,” Cathy soothed, her voice a honeyed murmur. “Just keep drinking. You must be so thirsty.”

Suki obeyed, her tongue working in earnest now, lapping up the milk even as her body began to tremble under the attention. The sweet, creamy taste filled her mouth, a childish comfort at odds with the sinful heat pooling in her belly.

Then another set of hands joined the first. Sam and Erica, the twins, moved in on either side of her with synchronized grace. Their freckled hands were everywhere at once, a flurry of soft, exploring touches that made Suki’s skin prickle with hypersensitivity.

One twin—Suki thought it was Erica—traced the line of her spine through the thin lace of the bralette, her fingers dipping low to trace the top of the silicone tail where it met Suki’s skin. The other, Sam, palmed Suki’s other breast, her touch slightly rougher, more possessive, her fingers pinching the nipple through the lace until Suki whimpered into the bowl.

“Look how wet she is,” Sam giggled, her voice a whisper in Suki’s ear.

Erica’s hand slid down Suki’s stomach, her fingers slipping beneath the soaked waistband of her panties. She didn’t delve into her slit, not yet. Instead, her fingertips skimmed through the neatly trimmed curls of Suki’s pubic hair, now damp with a mixture of sweat and her own arousal. “Soaked,” Erica confirmed, her voice thick with amusement. “And we’ve barely started.”

Suki’s lapping became frantic, a **** attempt to focus on the dare, to follow the command, as their hands continued their leisurely exploration. They groped her small breasts, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh until it felt bruised and oversensitive. They traced the curve of her ass, one twin on each cheek, spreading her slightly to better appreciate the tail and the way her body accommodated it.

“Such a perfect little body,” Cathy mused, her free hand stroking Suki’s flank. “So responsive.”

Erica’s fingers finally dipped lower, parting Suki’s slick folds to gather the creamy evidence of her arousal. She brought her glistening fingertips up, showing them to her sister with a wicked grin. Without a word, Sam leaned in and pressed a soft, biting kiss to the nape of Suki’s neck, leaving a faint red mark.

Then Erica’s wet fingers were on Suki’s skin again, but not between her legs. She smeared Suki’s own juices across her stomach, painting a glistening trail across her pale skin. Sam followed suit, using the slickness to write something on the small of Suki’s back. The sensation of the cool air on the wet marks, of their fingers claiming her body, was maddening.

Cathy joined in, her touch gentler but no less possessive. She used Suki’s nectar to anoint her, drawing slow, wet circles around her nipples through the lace, making the fabric cling transparently to the hardened buds. She painted Suki’s collarbone, her throat, marking her as theirs.

Suki was panting now, her attempts to drink becoming erratic. Milk dripped from her chin, onto her chest, mingling with the other fluids there. The room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of her lapping tongue and the girls’ murmured praises and teasing comments. Her body was no longer her own; it was a canvas for their play, a toy for their amusement. Every graze of a fingernail, every possessive squeeze, every humiliating stroke of her own slickness across her skin brought her closer to the edge. The plug in her ass felt enormous, a constant, fulsome pressure that amplified every tremor.

“Please,” she moaned against the rim of the bowl, the word distorted and slurred. She didn’t even know what she was begging for—release, or for this exquisite torment to never end.

“Ah-ah, kitten,” Cathy chided softly, tugging gently on her hair to pull her head back from the bowl. “No cumming. Remember? You’re just our pretty pet to play with. This isn’t for you.”

The denial was a physical ache, a sharp throb deep in her core that made her legs shake. She was so close, balanced on a knife’s edge of sensation, held there by their merciless, loving hands.

“Now,” Cathy whispered, her lips brushing the shell of Suki’s ear as the twins continued to paint and grope her trembling body. “Finish your milk.”