There were, however, some positives from the books. As shown by the vole kneeling before her. Head down, back straight, legs spread apart, and her palms facing upward whilst resting on her thighs. Compliant, obedient, and patient. If Helga didn’t know any better she’d assume Amethyst was a dutiful submissive.
But she did know better. Nadu or not, Amethyst’s bratty nature would win. Her pretty punk pet would find the right moment, the crux of the pig’s dominance, and try to shoot it down with a snarky comment or playful deflection. Verbally poking her for retaliation.
And as fun as that playful back and forth was, Helga liked to remind her younger partner who was in charge. Amethyst may offer her submission, but Helga dictated where it would go. So she sat before the vole, idly kicking her boot out towards her submissive’s chastity shield, waiting in silence between the clock’s echo.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Amethyst clenched and loosened her fists. The pig leaned forward, grinning at the small curl in the vole’s lips. “I see a smile,” she teased.
Amethyst hardened her expression in response, but it was too late. Like steam rising in a pot, she was starting to burst as evident by her growing smile. Helga watched her playmate struggle to keep still, from biting her lip to tensing those delicate muscles. The swing of Helga’s boot inched closer, still just out of reach of the chastity shield.
“It’s getting bigger,” Helga said, “You can’t stop it.”
A snicker trickled from Amethyst’s maw. It grew, eliciting laughter she suppressed with both paws. Smiling, Helga prodded her girlfriend’s forehead. “There it is, there’s the brat.”
“You’re not playing fair,” Amethyst argued through a genuine if frustrated grin. “How can I take you seriously when you’re not?”
“Who said I’m not being serious?” Helga pushed her boot between the vole’s lets, “Because I’m not using a heavy tone? Or is it because I’m not calling you a carpet-munching slut? No, I am very serious, Amy. It’s your mistake assuming that only subs can be brats.”
Whatever argument the rodent had was pushed aside as Helga shoved her to the floor. She planted her boot on it, tapping the sole against the metal as she thought aloud. “That being said, did I give you permission to break position?”
Amethyst’s frustration vanished in favor of a cheeky grin. “No, mama.”
“That’s right.” Helga stamped her boot. Amethyst writhed in pained pleasure, taking deep breaths that the pig soaked up in her amusement. “And what happens when bad girls break my rules?”
“They get punished.”
Helga’s smile matched Amethyst’s. “That’s right. They get punished.”
***
When writing the blurb I realized I don't know enough about Gor/Gorean stuff beyond what I've skimmed in the wiki. While I'm sure Helga would know more about it, I the writer felt no complaints she had could be properly voiced, so in the end I'm assuming she never cared to look into the actual books either. The Gorean slave poses are pretty fun though.
Art is by \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
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