Her biggest fan

Story by Solidness:

The last time Jimmy had been at an aquarium he had been respectful of the instructions posted at the outside of each themed section and on plaques beside the windows where fish bobbed without regard for the viewers who, from their viewpoint, were no doubt misshapen by the curved glass which separated them from the audience. Raised eyebrows and barely audible tuts were the way in which he let his public feelings known. Often he thought about how the guppies and starfish felt when large, across-the-pond, tourists jammed their flashing cameras and loud voices up close to get a reaction.

Now he knew. Or at least if he was a fish in its own habitat and two bright flashes had been against the limits of it he would know what his reaction would be. Not to do tricks or swim away in fear, but to freeze in place and feel the water turn cold in comparison to the rush on his cheeks. Jimmy reckoned that the inhabitants of the aquarium did not have to worry about being eaten by those who visited. Can you call someone a visitor if it’s in their own home? Did she even consider him a trespasser?

It was not a question to her mind as to who would reach for the shower handle first once she went inside, her little pet would be naturally stunned that she had shown up so boldly to address him about not asking to use her shower by himself. She suspected that he knew and was not only prepared but fantasised about the repercussions of such an act. Despite being a large creature he did not turn around as she approached the glass, perhaps the rush of water from the shower-head masked her movements. Jimmy did notice her when the finger of her forepaw, by itself the size of his own arm, drew a shape in the condensation on the outer surface of the glass.

“Sheraht...” he stammered and went cold despite the warm water. “...I was just, testing it to make sure the hot flow had been fixed, yeah,” Jimmy turned around to face the shower door and the bar of soap in one hand shot from his grip as if it had been propelled.

Whatever the glass was made of was somehow sufficiently strong enough to hold back her prodigious bust without cracking. Sheraht had pressed herself against it and, because of her towering size, rested both arms atop the pane while looking down at him. Jimmy saw the expression of hunger across her face be punctuated by a lascivious lick across her lips by a lavender tongue, and could not help enjoy that she was sizing him up so brazenly.

“From the fog I’d say so,” she said. Her large taur body only just fit in the room and was not helped by the long bulk of her stupendous tail which she kept elevated off the ground and took active concentration to maintain, or at least he reckoned it did. The shape she had drawn with a finger-tip as wide as his head was a heart and the tinge upon his face deepened from pink to rouge. He stepped forward enough that just the inch-thick panel separated them, then wrapped his fingers around the handle and pulled inwards.

Sheraht lowered the arm that had been atop it and alighted her hand on her waist.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” encouraged Sheraht but did not step across the line where the tiles underfoot dropped an inch. Jimmy reached out for a moment as if to caress his fingers across the smooth surface, then thought otherwise and composed his tenuous expression.

“Are you a vampire, do you need permission?” he joked.

“I need a pet who will do whatever I say, whenever I say it, without objections or other motivations. Do you, Jimmy,” she began to walk forward with short thuds accompanying each step of her massive forepaws into the shower. He backed away as quick as she moved, “do you think that sounds like you?”

“What kind of things would you ask of them?”

“I need them to forget everything and devote themselves wholly to me, they would worship my paws, massage what their small, human hands can reach, and suffer the pleasure of my attention.”

“You want a slave it sounds like.”

“How you call yourself does not interest me,” she countered and Jimmy’s back touched the cool glass which led to a gasp from his mouth. The air came from his lungs, out of his mouth, and arched around the palm of one forepaw which she had lifted to hover an inch from his face.

“Mistress, goddess, my beauty,” offered the trapped human.

“And you don’t even need training,” smiled Sheraht and closed her forepaw around his face. It begun then, all four hours of his sixth initiation.