She lets you in

"It's open!" you hear over the heavy metal music coming from within.

You open the door and step into the dimly lit apartment. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the light. But when they do you immediately focus on the figure seated before you.

The room's been rearranged so that the first thing you see would be Samantha, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, in her Victorian style arm chair. Instead of her usual band t-shirt and tripp pants, she's wearing a short black leather skirt with fishnet stockings and a black corset with little silver skulls accenting it. The skirt you recognize as one that you've begged her to wear more in the past but the corset is an entirely new addition to her wardrobe.

"Uh... Samantha, I...," you begin, not sure what to say even as you're saying it.

"Close the door," she says in a crisp emotionless tone.

You close your mouth and the door. She doesn't look happy. In fact, the last time you saw this look on her face was at a concert when some blond bimbo hit on you and Samantha'd slugged her right in the face.

"Not a word. Pets don't speak," she says.

Pets don't speak? What? Your confusion is evident on your face.

"You heard me right. You're no longer my boyfriend. I'm breaking up with you. You're my pet now," she says, her voice as angry as her expression.

Down below, you can feel your cock stirring as blood rushes into it.

"I'm going to beat you, humiliate you, and laugh at you as you beg me to let you cum," she says.

You open your mouth to speak, "Samantha, I-."

CRACK! She lifts a riding from her lap and cracks it against the wooden floor.

"I said pets do not speak!" she says.

You immediately stop. A smile crosses her black painted lips for the briefest of moments. She stands up and walks up to you.

"I fell in love with you as my boyfriend," she says, placing a hand on your cheek. "That's why I put up with the terrible sex. I mean, what did you think I was doing in the shower afterwards, every single time? You sure as hell weren't doing the job."

You struggle not to say anything.

"But it's okay now. Who knows, maybe I'll even fall in love with you again as my pet. But there'll be a lot of changes for you to get used to and you've got a lot to make up for after all those awful nights listening to you grunt and moan like a damn animal and never taking care of me. That is, of course, unless you don't want to be my pet?" she says, sliding her hand down to the impressive bulge in your pants. "You want to be my pet, don't you baby?" she whispers seductively into your ear.

As she slowly jerks you off through your pants all you can do is lean your head back and moan.