I never left her employ after that. Mistress Pickles’ house was, I was to discover, a salon for ladies who, like me and Mrs Pickles herself, favoure... the sexual intimacy of other women. No doubt my Mistress was aware of my similar proclivities or, were she not, she soon came to be. I attended upon her with more than physical pleasure, for I felt a kind of love for the woman who had taken me from my earlier life. Her faith in me was the first such I had ever known and I rewarded her in my way. She stood squarely before me, wordlessly, and put both her hands up on my shoulders, cocking her head to the side and letting me enjoy the view of the deeply shadowed cleft in her upright bosom and the smell of her animal scent, not perfume, of her musky and lustrous body while she licked her lips, contemplating I knew not what. She reminded me of the woman I sailed up the Hudson with, a very pleasant memory.I untied her long, slick belt and put my big paws on her silken hips, lightly, sliding. More

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