Registration (Peter)
My name is Jill Tiny
chapter 15
by
copier
· original author:
bask25456
Peter and Jill's day of work starts out happily enough, with Peter at first making a fuss about how hard it was to carry Jill around all the time with his hand held out, and how unsafe when walking long distances, and then good-naturedly allowing himself to be pushed off the idea of trapping Jill in his pocket.
"Fine," he relents in the face of her diffident, but furious, protests, "you can stay in my hand. Sit down." She does so, and he curls the fingers of his right palm around her legs, so she's quite firmly held to his palm. They both agree silently to ignore the necessary positioning of his middle two fingers quite near the V of her navel.
"Ask any Tiny. We all hate pockets, so we enter them only under silent protest"
"Not so silent in your case." He observes pointedly, although kindly. She blushes and looks down:
"Well, I just thought, with you being so generous and all, that you wouldn't mind your little pet telling you if she doesn't like something." She gives him a wide-eyed, innocent look. He laughs:
"Oh, sugaring me up with 'pet' and then the puppydog eyes. Well-played, Jill." Peter suddenly catches the unmistakable sound of Marcy lecturing her dolls as he starts to head down the stairs and sobers a bit: "Well, that's good at all, but a certain pushy little pet should get fair warning: if she wants to use my generosity, she should be aware that she might get a bit singed if she speaks up when her master is in a bad mood, or in a difficult situation."
"That certain little pet is willing to accept the risk, and is merely grateful for her master's generosity." Jill tells Peter, equally serious. He gives her resolve the consideration it's due:
"I'm glad to hear it. Ack, enough third person." He switches moods abruptly by concentrating on the feel of Jill's little body in his hand: always a sure route to a brighter day, "I have enough trouble keeping track as it is, with all these titles. Really, for the most part I do want to hear you express yourself, never fear."
"I never have fear about you Peter."
"That’s good. Now, Chloe time." He walks into the living room, where Chloe is 'marshalling the troops' as it were, gathering all her remaining Tinies after some talk and setting them into the usual clear bowl, but with some foam padding for longer transport. Unusually enough, they are all clad, and in somewhat adequate clothing as well. Peter stays back to let her finish (and enjoy his alone time with Jill), listening to the practically patented giggle-shriek sounds of Tom's harem in the downstairs bathroom, as well as his dad stomping around upstairs doing something. His mom, somewhat incongruously given the seriousness of the occasion (the siblings and their young helpers had all gotten out of school in order to help with the scheme), is packing lunches into brown paper bags. She glances up and catches his somewhat skeptical glance, and makes some comment directed at the counter beside her to some Tiny out of sight. He smiles, than realizes Jill is motioning for him to bring her up to his face:
"Peter," She yell-whispers: "Why are we helping Chloe out? She almost..." She trails off, face flushing once more. He whispers back:
"Well, a few things. First, I made a deal with Chloe," He forestalls her objection to that statement, and any further ones, by gently closing her mouth with a thumb, "While she may have caused trouble, it wasn't that bad, really. I suppose you might not feel that way since you were the one in the boxers, but regardless, not that bad. I still won in the end, I got you. Second, I have put a lot of work into this project, and it will be quite satisfying to see all of my work pay off. Third, I hate to admit it, but me and Chloe do have one thing in common: we like Tinies. I may have the best Tiny of them all, but still, you guys do make such great, adorable pets!" He strokes her hair, a bit of possessiveness entering his eyes for a moment as he stares at her. Jill wisely reads this as not a good time to assert herself, and instead lets herself delight in the warm hands, soft stroking and sheer Peter-ness that fulfills her so completely. The moment passes, and Peter lets a mischievous smile play over his face once more:
"Still, there's no reason why we can't rub it in a little. It's a bit mean, so we'll only do it just this once, but she was quite mean to us as well."
"Absolutely right." Jill seizes her chance, "You just leave it to me. I know just how to act."
"I put my faith in you." He tells her, half mockingly but half seriously as well. Jill is unable to keep herself from squirming a bit in pleasure at his words, and the glow this produces in both of them (for different reasons, obviously) adds wonderfully to the effect of the next minute. Peter decides to take it fast and hard:
"Hey Chloe," He says, walking up, Jill leaning languidly back on his arm, legs dangling carelessly, "I just wanted to thank you again for Jill. She’s been great." He lets Jill take the reigns. She plays her part perfectly:
"Ooh yes, it’s been wonderful!" She calls to her former mistress: "Master Peter's been great, giving me treats, letting me get dressed up for this rescue. We even had time for a quick cheerleading session before we came back. I can't wait till we come back tonight to have more fun, Peter's going to show me so much more stuff, and maybe even play more games with me" The slightly vapid, endlessly cheery and utterly adoring tone of Jill's voice works wonders, partly because it was almost exactly the same tone she had used when talking about nights with Chloe. They both see a flash of anger and extreme possessiveness quickly pass over Chloe's face before being stifled. It makes Peter a little sad and weary, but it sends chills through Jill: after all, regardless of change of ownership, it was still a member of the family, entitled to affection and obedience, although of course not as much as Peter. Chloe opens her mouth, a twisted smile on her face:
"I'm glad you've enjoyed Jill so much, Peter. You moved pretty quickly, didn't you, taking all she has to offer in one sitting, so perhaps you'll be wanting a new Ti-" Chloe's low, poisonous words are interrupted by Jill's high pitched voice:
"All I have to offer? As if! Master's taking it slow, so we can have hours upon hours of fun together." Chloe is taken aback, her mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. Finally, she manages to come up with something:
"So Peter, you're letting your pet interrupt big people with sass now, are you?"
"Only when they're talking more sense than the big person." He agrees cheerfully, "Anyway, as I said, talk on-site about the plan. I'll go over to register Jill now, make sure she stays mine forever." He turns as if to walk away, than casts one last comment over his shoulder, as if an afterthought:
"Oh Chloe, by the way, I think that you might have made a bit of a boo-boo with that tomato juice you gave Jill, letting it spoil a bit or something. Don't worry, I caught the problem and fixed it." With that, he heads without delay out the door. When they're a safe distance from the house, he carefully looks around, than ducks behind a bush. Sure that they're alone and unobserved, they both slowly start to shake with uncontrollable laughter, until finally they let it burst out:
"Did you see the look on her face when you told her about the tomato juice? I thought she was going to puke." Says Jill between gasping breaths of laughter, watching Peter's gloriously lit up face and letting the sound of his voice wash over her.
"And when you did that bit with the 'play'! Priceless!" They soon get themselves reasonably under control once more. Jill tells him seriously:
"Well, that was fun, but we should only do that once. It's not nice being mean." For some reason, they both find the remark hysterically funny, and it takes them a few moments to calm down again, Peter even crashing awkwardly down on his butt to steady his hand and keep Jill from getting hurt. Peter nods eventually:
"Yeah, it certainly isn't nice. Still, that was good. You are one accomplished actor, Jill." He says in an admiring voice. Jill shakes her head:
"Not really. I just told her how I felt for real, that's all." That's an interesting color she notes absently as Peter's face turns sticky white, than a diffuse pink. as he gapes at her, entirely startled. She smiled inwardly: I guess he's got some soft spots for discomfort as well she thinks with no little satisfaction, remembering his quite effective teasing Still, Jill doesn't want to torment her poor master, so she lets him off the hook:
"Well, I guess normally I wouldn't have been quite so silly about it." Peter nods, relieved:
""Or used some of those expressions." She nods agreement, watching his face take on a less interesting, but clearly healthier color. He resumes his walk: the facility, he tells Jill absently, is only a few blocks away from the house: they're quite close to a small business part of town, thankfully. Jill enjoys the quiet and the fresh air for a while: she hadn't been truly outside for months. Other things that being outside didn't really cross her mind, but still, it was much better now than those few spare sessions in the backyard or on the porch. Then, it had been an "airing out", or some game of Chloe's. Now she could just enjoy Peter's company, the sun, and the fresh air without any other demands. Eventually, Peter interrupts her reverie, but she doesn't mind:
"Jill, I noticed that you said 'cheerleading session' to Chloe. I thought that you didn't remember what happened." Jill shook her head:
"No, I never said that. In fact, it is all very hazy and fuzzy, but, well, thinking about ti, it isn't that hard to deduce kind of what happened when one wakes up really tired and wearing a cheerleader skirt without the top." Peter, seeing her flush a bit and look down, has an inkling that it might be a bit more than that as well. Outwardly he says "Okay, I guess it wouldn't be that hard.", but inwardly he makes a note to give Jill a lot of alone time and privacy tonight to deal with whatever memories she has. Thankfully, their awkward conversation is neatly interrupted by their arrival at the facility.
"This is it," Peter tells Jill, holding her up a bit and loosening his grip. She nods, and they go inside.
-----------
On the outside, the facility is an unprepossessing, unlabeled white building, deliberately giving no clue about future plans, with papered-up windows preventing any word of the scheme from leaking out. On the inside, however, it's a different story. The building has two main parts, a large area in front and a large area in back. The front will become, of course, the store section of the pet co-op, and there are signs, shelves and other things shoved into corners that give this away. For now, however, the front part of the store has been given out to a series of long picnic tables. Above each table is a sign attached to a metal post. The one Jill sees first, being closest to the door, is "10s". After it, "9s", the "8s", and so forth, down to “1s”. There are no other markings on those picnic tables, which show signs of recent, scrupulous cleaning.
On either side of the doorless doorway between the two rooms, a cluster of teenagers is standing around various smaller tables. This is mainly two groups, around five normal-looking girls, busily going over maps and preparing what look suspiciously like butterfly nets, cages, cage-traps and quantities of knock-out gas. They occasionally go over and consult with a group of overly-acned young guys, all of whom look a trifle younger than the girls, who are busily doing arcane things to a labyrinth of electronic equipment and wires.
Peter immediately heads over to the second group: "Hey guys." He greets them casually, dropping into a chair and setting Jill down on a very small patch of clear space. Jill steadies herself and looks around with both interest and trepidation: she could easily become lost forever in this towering mass of wires and metal junk. The boys themselves, besides being enormous, weren't particularly attractive from what she could see, most having thick-glasses and a clumsy, unappealing gait. They're all looking at her, to, so she quickly scurries backwards to Peter, who puts out a hand and lets her run into it. He swivels around in his chair and looks at her with concern:
"What is it Jill, intimidated by all this dangerous looking equipment? Don't worry, it's all unplugged, and I won't let you get tangled in anything."
"Well, it's not only that. It's those boys. They look; they look, so... repulsive. And sweaty. I hope you're not going to let them touch me." She shivers. Than notices the look on Peter's face: wounded, a bit, and quite sad, but above all, disappointed. She cringes: "What's wrong?" She asks, flinching as if in anticipation of a blow:
"Pet, a year and a half ago I was one of those guys you label as repulsive. I had the horrible acne, which Chloe would tease me about mercilessly. I wouldn't think a Tiny would be so quick to judge. I have it on good authority that some people call you the spawn of Satan." Jill looks away, unable to meet his gaze. She falls over herself to apologize:
"I'm sorry master, really sorry. I shouldn't have insulted your friends, or you, or said those things without at least getting to know them." Peter nods:
"Want to make it up to me?" She nods quickly. "Good, than behave when I let them hold you." He suddenly swings around in his chair, "Don't worry Jill." He says in a much louder voice clearly intended for their audience, "I've got them almost housebroken by now. I've taught them to shower and be polite. The shouldn't smell, or even grope! Everyone, this is my new Tiny, Jill." The group had quickly come closer as they had talked, and Jill found herself at the center of a circle of shining glasses and pimply faces. She holds herself very still: she didn't want to disappoint Peter twice! Peter was still talking, "Yeah, I've told them all about you, Jill. This is Matt, David, Chris, Michael, and Dan. Say hi Jill." Jill takes a steadying breath, than opens her eyes. She gives each of them a deep curtsy standing on Peter's hand, trying not be nervous. Despite what Peter said, she notices a definite trend in their eyes to focus on her chest, and is very glad that Peter had let her change into a so much less revealing outfit. The one on the far left, Dan, reaches forward at Peter's instruction:
"Don't forget what I taught you."
"Yeah yeah, wipe my hands, don't pin her arms, be gentle, be respectful, and don’t breathe on her." He said it like a mantra. Jill finds that, as Peter had said, they weren't too sweaty, and they didn't grope, although being young teenage boys no power on earth could have kept them from looking. Their fingers, however, stayed firmly, respectfully, on her stomach. She gave each of them a wave, watching their faces transform as smiles broke out. The last, Michael, was so hideously acned that she wasn't sure how she could look him in the face, but she did, and even gave him an affectionate pat on the wrist, rewarded with an even more transformative smile and clear gratitude. Going back to stand on Peter's hand, she mouths "you were right!" up at his approving face. Suddenly, however, the smell of sweat greatly increases and she finds herself grabbed out of Peter's hand by a very sweaty, chubby paw. It was a sixth guy, but this one was different: he leered openly at her, so close that his hot, smelly breath rolled over her. She struggles instinctively, but he just gives a laugh-snort and pins her arms:
"Wow Peter, you got such a hot tiny. Look at her pair!" He does more than look, roughly fondling them with his thumb. Jill is about to scream when Peter's voice breaks in:
"And then there's Jack." He says, wearily with a tinge of anger in his voice. He doesn’t waste words: "Jack, give her back, Jill's my pet. You'll get your own soon enough." Jack shrugs and Sets her down on a computer monitor:
"Fine, whatever. She's hot, but why didn't you get one with bigger boobs?"
"You really wouldn't understand." Jack shrugs and walks off, the (big) girl's recoiling from him in disgust. Meanwhile, Jill is panting heavily on the monitor. The boys cluster around, offering expressions of indignation and comfort:
"Are you okay Jill? You're not hurt?" "That creep." "If he did that to my Tiny I'd..." "Why did we let that guy come?" Peter's voice overrides them:
"We let that guy come because he's the son of the town's IT guy. Thankfully, he's not part of the group, he won't be working here at all. He'll take a few Tinies and be out of our hair by tomorrow." They all nodded sagely, looking down worriedly at Jill. To their surprise, however, she sits up looking only a little worse for the ware. In fact, she's smiling:
"Don't worry." She calls up, "I'm used to creeps like that. I know it doesn't mean anything, really. You guys have been great, though." She blows each of them a kiss in gratitude, watching with a small, hidden gin as every guy except peter suddenly turned bright red and looked away, mumbling. Peter picks her up again:
"Nicely done." He tells her quietly, making no mention of Tom, although he did start to smooth out her rumpled hair and clothing. Suddenly, a voice calls out condescendingly from the girl's table;
"Nerds!" It was Chloe. They look at one another and grin:
"And proud of it!" They shoot back at her, Jill yelling as loud as any of them (well, proportionally at least). Suddenly, there's another voice calling from the front of the store:
"Nerds? Just what I need. Registration time!" It's Tom, holding a large cage strewn with pieces of flimsy cloth: his harem. He holds the door open for Marcy, who he'd walked over, and strides confidently towards the back. Without a word the boys are back in full nerd mode, a kind of semi-panicked but amazingly focused frenzy involving all the electronic equipment. Matt starts stuffing wires into the wall, David starts working on the computers, and the other three grab some strange handheld device and walk over to another table. Peter gives Jill a look: with the word registration both their hearts had started to beat a little faster. He walks towards Tom and the nerds, holding Jill more tightly now. Tom’s harem had all bounded out of the cage, dancing along the table marked "10s". Michael quickly went over and grabbed the "9s" and "8s" signs as well, clearly determined to do things properly.
Jill watches Tom's harem get registered from the table: Peter had set her down on the table to help move things along. She had gotten a good look at the device the nerds were wielding: it was what looked like a gun, with a trigger, but it had a small screen mounted on it, and the end wasn't a barrel, but a large, pointy cone. Peter didn't explain it but it was obviously a tattoo gun: whenever one of the nerds applied it to the skin, it would make a humming noise and the girl would give a small squeal, then turn and display the tattoo to Tom. It was quite a display, since the harem had agreed that they would get it smack dab between their breasts!
Jill slowly feels herself go warm as she watches yet another harem member, the "cowgirl" named Sammy, gleefully lift her shirt and display her heaving bosom, bra-less, to Dan. Would Peter expect the same of her? It would be bad enough with Dan, but would he do the tattooing himself? Almost as disturbing as that thought, however, was watching the young boys who had earlier been so bashful work with quiet, scary efficiency in their "nerd-mode". The Harem was fully intent in getting an embarrassed rise out of them, each posing sexily while the nerd entered information on the screen before the registration, but to their distress, and Jill's, it wasn't working. She might have felt sorry for them and embarrassed if they had been stuttering or beet red, but instead they passed their eyes over each new bosom with barely an eye-blink, disappointing the Harem who clearly had thought they were easy prey. Even master isn't showing any signs of distress. Jill thinks miserably, wondering what it all means. As if sensing her thoughts, Peter suddenly glances up from tattooing his latest Harem-girl at Jill. He gives her a look which was reassuringly embarrassed and quite apologetic. Letting his charge skip over to her master, he came over to Jill and reassured her: "Don't worry. It's just an act: all us guys decided to learn to deal with this peculiar workplace hazard. We're not nearly as calm or unaffected as we look." Jill nods, relieved, than remembers her other concern:
"Master Peter, who's tattooing me and, uh, will it be in the same place?" Peter pulled nervously at his collar, looking away:
"Well, actually, I was thinking more along the lines of your right cheek." Jill turns white. Slowly, she reaches up and pasts her face, but Peter slowly shakes his head. Jill looks at him wide-eyed:
"My BUTT!?" It comes out as a squeak and she furiously looks away, breathing heavily, "Well, I guess it is a bit better than those girls." She doesn't meet Peter's eye. "Are you doing it?" To Jill's infinite relief, he shakes his head.
"No, but the new law does say I have to check it for accuracy. It'll only be for a moment, I swear." Unable to bear this conversation for any longer, he turns to his friends, who have finished the last Haremite and are letting their relief slip through. "Who wants to do Jill?" The nerds had been eavesdropping on the conversation and knew exactly where it was going. Suddenly, the three guys who had dealt collectively with over 15 pairs of heaving breasts suddenly looked bashful and embarrassed, all shaking their heads in a panic. Tom looks up from giving a comforting lick on the new tattoo to his new girls:
"I'll do it if you guys can't..."
"NO!" Peter, Dan, Michael and Chris all turn as one and shoot him an incredibly cold glare. Chris' and Michael's glasses both gleam. Tom quickly backs away with his prizes, heading over to Chloe as fast as his dignity would allow. That done, the boys all look gloomily at Jill, who looks gloomily at Jill.
"We could draw straws." Suggests Dan, but is suddenly interrupted by a high pitched voice:
"Ugh, boys. C'mon Jilly-doll" Marcy's childish exclamation is followed by quick action, setting her own dolls, who were all waiting impatiently, on the table and grabbing Jill out of Peter's hand and setting her firmly on the table. Jill stumbles, than recovers, relieved. She adores Marcy, and while at another time she might find Marcy's abrupt, authoritative manner and the diminutive a trifle off-putting, right now she's relieved that a girl is going to do it. Marcy looks at the nerds:
"Go make yourselves useful: I want my dolls done on the feet." The nerds meekly comply. Marcy collars Peter, however, as he's about to follow. "No Peter, you're staying here." She grabs the device out of Peter's hand, takes one look, than shoves it back, telling him to program it. He does, and hands it back. "Just press to the skin and pull the trigger." Marcy nods and turns to Jill:
"Jilly-doll, lean over." As Jill complies, Marcy reaches out and roughly pulls down Jill's pants and underwear with two fingers, "You said her butt, right?" Jill misses Peter's response as, face flaming red, she desperately tries to grab her clothes and pull them up again:
"Stop that Jilly-doll!" Says Marcy reprovingly, pinning her arms. Jill struggles for a moment before she notices that Peter us now turned around, neck a definite shade of red. She stops struggling, but yelps as she feels a cool, metallic weight press itself into her right ass-cheek. Peter calls out:
"Jill, the machine takes your DNA and registers it to me, so that will sting. The tattoo shouldn't hurt to much." Jill doesn't have time to reply before Marcy pulls the trigger. It did hurt, just a little, at first, but it was only a little worse than a sharp pinch, so she didn't even twitch. The tattooing itself was just a slightly rough brushing feeling along her skin, over in a mere moment. "Done". Marcy pronounces. "Now, I want to see how Jackie and Emily are doing. Those boys better not have slipped!" Jill pulls her pants up quickly as Peter turns:
"Wait a moment, Jill, I have to look." Jill makes a face. "It's the law, so I really have to look." Than, quietly "And maybe I want to look as well." Jill feels a pleasant tingle at those words, as well as the usually embarrassed heat. Peter magically procures too hand mirrors, putting one in front of, and the other behind. Slowly, reluctantly, Jill hooks a thumb under her waistband and draws down her pants and panties on the right side, trying to expose as little as possible. Peter gives a sharp breath, but Jill's attention is suddenly drawn by the plain, black letters standing in sharp relief against the smooth skin back their "JILL TINY: PROPERTY OF PETER GARRITY". Jill stares at it in the mirror for a moment more, before snapping up her waistband again. She and Peter look at one another. Finally:
"Well Jill, I guess your mine now." Peter says. He ventures a small smile. Jill smiles back:
"I'm happy it's you, Peter." Their quiet moment is interrupted by some shouting from the front of the room: Chloe, calling the meeting to order. Jill grabs Jill and heads up to the front, passing where Marcy is inspecting her doll's feet and where the nerds were methodically giving tattoos on the shoulder to Chloe's enormous collection, and on the stomach to Tyler and Richard's maids.
"Fine," he relents in the face of her diffident, but furious, protests, "you can stay in my hand. Sit down." She does so, and he curls the fingers of his right palm around her legs, so she's quite firmly held to his palm. They both agree silently to ignore the necessary positioning of his middle two fingers quite near the V of her navel.
"Ask any Tiny. We all hate pockets, so we enter them only under silent protest"
"Not so silent in your case." He observes pointedly, although kindly. She blushes and looks down:
"Well, I just thought, with you being so generous and all, that you wouldn't mind your little pet telling you if she doesn't like something." She gives him a wide-eyed, innocent look. He laughs:
"Oh, sugaring me up with 'pet' and then the puppydog eyes. Well-played, Jill." Peter suddenly catches the unmistakable sound of Marcy lecturing her dolls as he starts to head down the stairs and sobers a bit: "Well, that's good at all, but a certain pushy little pet should get fair warning: if she wants to use my generosity, she should be aware that she might get a bit singed if she speaks up when her master is in a bad mood, or in a difficult situation."
"That certain little pet is willing to accept the risk, and is merely grateful for her master's generosity." Jill tells Peter, equally serious. He gives her resolve the consideration it's due:
"I'm glad to hear it. Ack, enough third person." He switches moods abruptly by concentrating on the feel of Jill's little body in his hand: always a sure route to a brighter day, "I have enough trouble keeping track as it is, with all these titles. Really, for the most part I do want to hear you express yourself, never fear."
"I never have fear about you Peter."
"That’s good. Now, Chloe time." He walks into the living room, where Chloe is 'marshalling the troops' as it were, gathering all her remaining Tinies after some talk and setting them into the usual clear bowl, but with some foam padding for longer transport. Unusually enough, they are all clad, and in somewhat adequate clothing as well. Peter stays back to let her finish (and enjoy his alone time with Jill), listening to the practically patented giggle-shriek sounds of Tom's harem in the downstairs bathroom, as well as his dad stomping around upstairs doing something. His mom, somewhat incongruously given the seriousness of the occasion (the siblings and their young helpers had all gotten out of school in order to help with the scheme), is packing lunches into brown paper bags. She glances up and catches his somewhat skeptical glance, and makes some comment directed at the counter beside her to some Tiny out of sight. He smiles, than realizes Jill is motioning for him to bring her up to his face:
"Peter," She yell-whispers: "Why are we helping Chloe out? She almost..." She trails off, face flushing once more. He whispers back:
"Well, a few things. First, I made a deal with Chloe," He forestalls her objection to that statement, and any further ones, by gently closing her mouth with a thumb, "While she may have caused trouble, it wasn't that bad, really. I suppose you might not feel that way since you were the one in the boxers, but regardless, not that bad. I still won in the end, I got you. Second, I have put a lot of work into this project, and it will be quite satisfying to see all of my work pay off. Third, I hate to admit it, but me and Chloe do have one thing in common: we like Tinies. I may have the best Tiny of them all, but still, you guys do make such great, adorable pets!" He strokes her hair, a bit of possessiveness entering his eyes for a moment as he stares at her. Jill wisely reads this as not a good time to assert herself, and instead lets herself delight in the warm hands, soft stroking and sheer Peter-ness that fulfills her so completely. The moment passes, and Peter lets a mischievous smile play over his face once more:
"Still, there's no reason why we can't rub it in a little. It's a bit mean, so we'll only do it just this once, but she was quite mean to us as well."
"Absolutely right." Jill seizes her chance, "You just leave it to me. I know just how to act."
"I put my faith in you." He tells her, half mockingly but half seriously as well. Jill is unable to keep herself from squirming a bit in pleasure at his words, and the glow this produces in both of them (for different reasons, obviously) adds wonderfully to the effect of the next minute. Peter decides to take it fast and hard:
"Hey Chloe," He says, walking up, Jill leaning languidly back on his arm, legs dangling carelessly, "I just wanted to thank you again for Jill. She’s been great." He lets Jill take the reigns. She plays her part perfectly:
"Ooh yes, it’s been wonderful!" She calls to her former mistress: "Master Peter's been great, giving me treats, letting me get dressed up for this rescue. We even had time for a quick cheerleading session before we came back. I can't wait till we come back tonight to have more fun, Peter's going to show me so much more stuff, and maybe even play more games with me" The slightly vapid, endlessly cheery and utterly adoring tone of Jill's voice works wonders, partly because it was almost exactly the same tone she had used when talking about nights with Chloe. They both see a flash of anger and extreme possessiveness quickly pass over Chloe's face before being stifled. It makes Peter a little sad and weary, but it sends chills through Jill: after all, regardless of change of ownership, it was still a member of the family, entitled to affection and obedience, although of course not as much as Peter. Chloe opens her mouth, a twisted smile on her face:
"I'm glad you've enjoyed Jill so much, Peter. You moved pretty quickly, didn't you, taking all she has to offer in one sitting, so perhaps you'll be wanting a new Ti-" Chloe's low, poisonous words are interrupted by Jill's high pitched voice:
"All I have to offer? As if! Master's taking it slow, so we can have hours upon hours of fun together." Chloe is taken aback, her mouth gaping open like a fish out of water. Finally, she manages to come up with something:
"So Peter, you're letting your pet interrupt big people with sass now, are you?"
"Only when they're talking more sense than the big person." He agrees cheerfully, "Anyway, as I said, talk on-site about the plan. I'll go over to register Jill now, make sure she stays mine forever." He turns as if to walk away, than casts one last comment over his shoulder, as if an afterthought:
"Oh Chloe, by the way, I think that you might have made a bit of a boo-boo with that tomato juice you gave Jill, letting it spoil a bit or something. Don't worry, I caught the problem and fixed it." With that, he heads without delay out the door. When they're a safe distance from the house, he carefully looks around, than ducks behind a bush. Sure that they're alone and unobserved, they both slowly start to shake with uncontrollable laughter, until finally they let it burst out:
"Did you see the look on her face when you told her about the tomato juice? I thought she was going to puke." Says Jill between gasping breaths of laughter, watching Peter's gloriously lit up face and letting the sound of his voice wash over her.
"And when you did that bit with the 'play'! Priceless!" They soon get themselves reasonably under control once more. Jill tells him seriously:
"Well, that was fun, but we should only do that once. It's not nice being mean." For some reason, they both find the remark hysterically funny, and it takes them a few moments to calm down again, Peter even crashing awkwardly down on his butt to steady his hand and keep Jill from getting hurt. Peter nods eventually:
"Yeah, it certainly isn't nice. Still, that was good. You are one accomplished actor, Jill." He says in an admiring voice. Jill shakes her head:
"Not really. I just told her how I felt for real, that's all." That's an interesting color she notes absently as Peter's face turns sticky white, than a diffuse pink. as he gapes at her, entirely startled. She smiled inwardly: I guess he's got some soft spots for discomfort as well she thinks with no little satisfaction, remembering his quite effective teasing Still, Jill doesn't want to torment her poor master, so she lets him off the hook:
"Well, I guess normally I wouldn't have been quite so silly about it." Peter nods, relieved:
""Or used some of those expressions." She nods agreement, watching his face take on a less interesting, but clearly healthier color. He resumes his walk: the facility, he tells Jill absently, is only a few blocks away from the house: they're quite close to a small business part of town, thankfully. Jill enjoys the quiet and the fresh air for a while: she hadn't been truly outside for months. Other things that being outside didn't really cross her mind, but still, it was much better now than those few spare sessions in the backyard or on the porch. Then, it had been an "airing out", or some game of Chloe's. Now she could just enjoy Peter's company, the sun, and the fresh air without any other demands. Eventually, Peter interrupts her reverie, but she doesn't mind:
"Jill, I noticed that you said 'cheerleading session' to Chloe. I thought that you didn't remember what happened." Jill shook her head:
"No, I never said that. In fact, it is all very hazy and fuzzy, but, well, thinking about ti, it isn't that hard to deduce kind of what happened when one wakes up really tired and wearing a cheerleader skirt without the top." Peter, seeing her flush a bit and look down, has an inkling that it might be a bit more than that as well. Outwardly he says "Okay, I guess it wouldn't be that hard.", but inwardly he makes a note to give Jill a lot of alone time and privacy tonight to deal with whatever memories she has. Thankfully, their awkward conversation is neatly interrupted by their arrival at the facility.
"This is it," Peter tells Jill, holding her up a bit and loosening his grip. She nods, and they go inside.
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On the outside, the facility is an unprepossessing, unlabeled white building, deliberately giving no clue about future plans, with papered-up windows preventing any word of the scheme from leaking out. On the inside, however, it's a different story. The building has two main parts, a large area in front and a large area in back. The front will become, of course, the store section of the pet co-op, and there are signs, shelves and other things shoved into corners that give this away. For now, however, the front part of the store has been given out to a series of long picnic tables. Above each table is a sign attached to a metal post. The one Jill sees first, being closest to the door, is "10s". After it, "9s", the "8s", and so forth, down to “1s”. There are no other markings on those picnic tables, which show signs of recent, scrupulous cleaning.
On either side of the doorless doorway between the two rooms, a cluster of teenagers is standing around various smaller tables. This is mainly two groups, around five normal-looking girls, busily going over maps and preparing what look suspiciously like butterfly nets, cages, cage-traps and quantities of knock-out gas. They occasionally go over and consult with a group of overly-acned young guys, all of whom look a trifle younger than the girls, who are busily doing arcane things to a labyrinth of electronic equipment and wires.
Peter immediately heads over to the second group: "Hey guys." He greets them casually, dropping into a chair and setting Jill down on a very small patch of clear space. Jill steadies herself and looks around with both interest and trepidation: she could easily become lost forever in this towering mass of wires and metal junk. The boys themselves, besides being enormous, weren't particularly attractive from what she could see, most having thick-glasses and a clumsy, unappealing gait. They're all looking at her, to, so she quickly scurries backwards to Peter, who puts out a hand and lets her run into it. He swivels around in his chair and looks at her with concern:
"What is it Jill, intimidated by all this dangerous looking equipment? Don't worry, it's all unplugged, and I won't let you get tangled in anything."
"Well, it's not only that. It's those boys. They look; they look, so... repulsive. And sweaty. I hope you're not going to let them touch me." She shivers. Than notices the look on Peter's face: wounded, a bit, and quite sad, but above all, disappointed. She cringes: "What's wrong?" She asks, flinching as if in anticipation of a blow:
"Pet, a year and a half ago I was one of those guys you label as repulsive. I had the horrible acne, which Chloe would tease me about mercilessly. I wouldn't think a Tiny would be so quick to judge. I have it on good authority that some people call you the spawn of Satan." Jill looks away, unable to meet his gaze. She falls over herself to apologize:
"I'm sorry master, really sorry. I shouldn't have insulted your friends, or you, or said those things without at least getting to know them." Peter nods:
"Want to make it up to me?" She nods quickly. "Good, than behave when I let them hold you." He suddenly swings around in his chair, "Don't worry Jill." He says in a much louder voice clearly intended for their audience, "I've got them almost housebroken by now. I've taught them to shower and be polite. The shouldn't smell, or even grope! Everyone, this is my new Tiny, Jill." The group had quickly come closer as they had talked, and Jill found herself at the center of a circle of shining glasses and pimply faces. She holds herself very still: she didn't want to disappoint Peter twice! Peter was still talking, "Yeah, I've told them all about you, Jill. This is Matt, David, Chris, Michael, and Dan. Say hi Jill." Jill takes a steadying breath, than opens her eyes. She gives each of them a deep curtsy standing on Peter's hand, trying not be nervous. Despite what Peter said, she notices a definite trend in their eyes to focus on her chest, and is very glad that Peter had let her change into a so much less revealing outfit. The one on the far left, Dan, reaches forward at Peter's instruction:
"Don't forget what I taught you."
"Yeah yeah, wipe my hands, don't pin her arms, be gentle, be respectful, and don’t breathe on her." He said it like a mantra. Jill finds that, as Peter had said, they weren't too sweaty, and they didn't grope, although being young teenage boys no power on earth could have kept them from looking. Their fingers, however, stayed firmly, respectfully, on her stomach. She gave each of them a wave, watching their faces transform as smiles broke out. The last, Michael, was so hideously acned that she wasn't sure how she could look him in the face, but she did, and even gave him an affectionate pat on the wrist, rewarded with an even more transformative smile and clear gratitude. Going back to stand on Peter's hand, she mouths "you were right!" up at his approving face. Suddenly, however, the smell of sweat greatly increases and she finds herself grabbed out of Peter's hand by a very sweaty, chubby paw. It was a sixth guy, but this one was different: he leered openly at her, so close that his hot, smelly breath rolled over her. She struggles instinctively, but he just gives a laugh-snort and pins her arms:
"Wow Peter, you got such a hot tiny. Look at her pair!" He does more than look, roughly fondling them with his thumb. Jill is about to scream when Peter's voice breaks in:
"And then there's Jack." He says, wearily with a tinge of anger in his voice. He doesn’t waste words: "Jack, give her back, Jill's my pet. You'll get your own soon enough." Jack shrugs and Sets her down on a computer monitor:
"Fine, whatever. She's hot, but why didn't you get one with bigger boobs?"
"You really wouldn't understand." Jack shrugs and walks off, the (big) girl's recoiling from him in disgust. Meanwhile, Jill is panting heavily on the monitor. The boys cluster around, offering expressions of indignation and comfort:
"Are you okay Jill? You're not hurt?" "That creep." "If he did that to my Tiny I'd..." "Why did we let that guy come?" Peter's voice overrides them:
"We let that guy come because he's the son of the town's IT guy. Thankfully, he's not part of the group, he won't be working here at all. He'll take a few Tinies and be out of our hair by tomorrow." They all nodded sagely, looking down worriedly at Jill. To their surprise, however, she sits up looking only a little worse for the ware. In fact, she's smiling:
"Don't worry." She calls up, "I'm used to creeps like that. I know it doesn't mean anything, really. You guys have been great, though." She blows each of them a kiss in gratitude, watching with a small, hidden gin as every guy except peter suddenly turned bright red and looked away, mumbling. Peter picks her up again:
"Nicely done." He tells her quietly, making no mention of Tom, although he did start to smooth out her rumpled hair and clothing. Suddenly, a voice calls out condescendingly from the girl's table;
"Nerds!" It was Chloe. They look at one another and grin:
"And proud of it!" They shoot back at her, Jill yelling as loud as any of them (well, proportionally at least). Suddenly, there's another voice calling from the front of the store:
"Nerds? Just what I need. Registration time!" It's Tom, holding a large cage strewn with pieces of flimsy cloth: his harem. He holds the door open for Marcy, who he'd walked over, and strides confidently towards the back. Without a word the boys are back in full nerd mode, a kind of semi-panicked but amazingly focused frenzy involving all the electronic equipment. Matt starts stuffing wires into the wall, David starts working on the computers, and the other three grab some strange handheld device and walk over to another table. Peter gives Jill a look: with the word registration both their hearts had started to beat a little faster. He walks towards Tom and the nerds, holding Jill more tightly now. Tom’s harem had all bounded out of the cage, dancing along the table marked "10s". Michael quickly went over and grabbed the "9s" and "8s" signs as well, clearly determined to do things properly.
Jill watches Tom's harem get registered from the table: Peter had set her down on the table to help move things along. She had gotten a good look at the device the nerds were wielding: it was what looked like a gun, with a trigger, but it had a small screen mounted on it, and the end wasn't a barrel, but a large, pointy cone. Peter didn't explain it but it was obviously a tattoo gun: whenever one of the nerds applied it to the skin, it would make a humming noise and the girl would give a small squeal, then turn and display the tattoo to Tom. It was quite a display, since the harem had agreed that they would get it smack dab between their breasts!
Jill slowly feels herself go warm as she watches yet another harem member, the "cowgirl" named Sammy, gleefully lift her shirt and display her heaving bosom, bra-less, to Dan. Would Peter expect the same of her? It would be bad enough with Dan, but would he do the tattooing himself? Almost as disturbing as that thought, however, was watching the young boys who had earlier been so bashful work with quiet, scary efficiency in their "nerd-mode". The Harem was fully intent in getting an embarrassed rise out of them, each posing sexily while the nerd entered information on the screen before the registration, but to their distress, and Jill's, it wasn't working. She might have felt sorry for them and embarrassed if they had been stuttering or beet red, but instead they passed their eyes over each new bosom with barely an eye-blink, disappointing the Harem who clearly had thought they were easy prey. Even master isn't showing any signs of distress. Jill thinks miserably, wondering what it all means. As if sensing her thoughts, Peter suddenly glances up from tattooing his latest Harem-girl at Jill. He gives her a look which was reassuringly embarrassed and quite apologetic. Letting his charge skip over to her master, he came over to Jill and reassured her: "Don't worry. It's just an act: all us guys decided to learn to deal with this peculiar workplace hazard. We're not nearly as calm or unaffected as we look." Jill nods, relieved, than remembers her other concern:
"Master Peter, who's tattooing me and, uh, will it be in the same place?" Peter pulled nervously at his collar, looking away:
"Well, actually, I was thinking more along the lines of your right cheek." Jill turns white. Slowly, she reaches up and pasts her face, but Peter slowly shakes his head. Jill looks at him wide-eyed:
"My BUTT!?" It comes out as a squeak and she furiously looks away, breathing heavily, "Well, I guess it is a bit better than those girls." She doesn't meet Peter's eye. "Are you doing it?" To Jill's infinite relief, he shakes his head.
"No, but the new law does say I have to check it for accuracy. It'll only be for a moment, I swear." Unable to bear this conversation for any longer, he turns to his friends, who have finished the last Haremite and are letting their relief slip through. "Who wants to do Jill?" The nerds had been eavesdropping on the conversation and knew exactly where it was going. Suddenly, the three guys who had dealt collectively with over 15 pairs of heaving breasts suddenly looked bashful and embarrassed, all shaking their heads in a panic. Tom looks up from giving a comforting lick on the new tattoo to his new girls:
"I'll do it if you guys can't..."
"NO!" Peter, Dan, Michael and Chris all turn as one and shoot him an incredibly cold glare. Chris' and Michael's glasses both gleam. Tom quickly backs away with his prizes, heading over to Chloe as fast as his dignity would allow. That done, the boys all look gloomily at Jill, who looks gloomily at Jill.
"We could draw straws." Suggests Dan, but is suddenly interrupted by a high pitched voice:
"Ugh, boys. C'mon Jilly-doll" Marcy's childish exclamation is followed by quick action, setting her own dolls, who were all waiting impatiently, on the table and grabbing Jill out of Peter's hand and setting her firmly on the table. Jill stumbles, than recovers, relieved. She adores Marcy, and while at another time she might find Marcy's abrupt, authoritative manner and the diminutive a trifle off-putting, right now she's relieved that a girl is going to do it. Marcy looks at the nerds:
"Go make yourselves useful: I want my dolls done on the feet." The nerds meekly comply. Marcy collars Peter, however, as he's about to follow. "No Peter, you're staying here." She grabs the device out of Peter's hand, takes one look, than shoves it back, telling him to program it. He does, and hands it back. "Just press to the skin and pull the trigger." Marcy nods and turns to Jill:
"Jilly-doll, lean over." As Jill complies, Marcy reaches out and roughly pulls down Jill's pants and underwear with two fingers, "You said her butt, right?" Jill misses Peter's response as, face flaming red, she desperately tries to grab her clothes and pull them up again:
"Stop that Jilly-doll!" Says Marcy reprovingly, pinning her arms. Jill struggles for a moment before she notices that Peter us now turned around, neck a definite shade of red. She stops struggling, but yelps as she feels a cool, metallic weight press itself into her right ass-cheek. Peter calls out:
"Jill, the machine takes your DNA and registers it to me, so that will sting. The tattoo shouldn't hurt to much." Jill doesn't have time to reply before Marcy pulls the trigger. It did hurt, just a little, at first, but it was only a little worse than a sharp pinch, so she didn't even twitch. The tattooing itself was just a slightly rough brushing feeling along her skin, over in a mere moment. "Done". Marcy pronounces. "Now, I want to see how Jackie and Emily are doing. Those boys better not have slipped!" Jill pulls her pants up quickly as Peter turns:
"Wait a moment, Jill, I have to look." Jill makes a face. "It's the law, so I really have to look." Than, quietly "And maybe I want to look as well." Jill feels a pleasant tingle at those words, as well as the usually embarrassed heat. Peter magically procures too hand mirrors, putting one in front of, and the other behind. Slowly, reluctantly, Jill hooks a thumb under her waistband and draws down her pants and panties on the right side, trying to expose as little as possible. Peter gives a sharp breath, but Jill's attention is suddenly drawn by the plain, black letters standing in sharp relief against the smooth skin back their "JILL TINY: PROPERTY OF PETER GARRITY". Jill stares at it in the mirror for a moment more, before snapping up her waistband again. She and Peter look at one another. Finally:
"Well Jill, I guess your mine now." Peter says. He ventures a small smile. Jill smiles back:
"I'm happy it's you, Peter." Their quiet moment is interrupted by some shouting from the front of the room: Chloe, calling the meeting to order. Jill grabs Jill and heads up to the front, passing where Marcy is inspecting her doll's feet and where the nerds were methodically giving tattoos on the shoulder to Chloe's enormous collection, and on the stomach to Tyler and Richard's maids.
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August 15
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