“I like that,” Sheridan confessed as The Mistress caressed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

“Like that I’ve topped rich and famous people? Richer and more famous than you? Or liked that I watched your interview?”

Sheridan shook her head.

“I liked that you called me Little Miss.”

Once again, The Mistress was seized with a nearly unconquerable urge to kiss the girl. But she restrained herself. Just barely.

“Glad you like it. That’s what I’ll call you from now on—my Little Miss. Now my Little Miss needs to take a deep breath. I’m going to start touching more of you—arms, stomach, hips and breasts, in that order.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Sheridan nodded her nervous little head and The Mistress moved in closer between Sheridan’s open thighs.

First, as promised, she started with Sheridan’s arms at the wrists and stroked upward to her shoulders with dancing fingertips. Delicate shivers passed through Sheridan’s body at the lightness of the touch.

Second, she brought her hands down Sheridan’s arms to her wrists, again pressed tight to her sides and crossed over to the girl’s trembling stomach. The Mistress laid her hand flat under her rib cage and felt the muscles flutter underneath.

Third she tickled Sheridan’s narrow girlish hips with her thumbs, tracing the bones.

“You need to eat more, Little Miss.”

“I eat all the time, Mistress. I promise. I just can’t gain weight. I’m going to look fourteen forever.”

“There are worse fates—working for Kingsley, for starters.”

Sheridan gave a little giggle.

“I like him. Is he really that bad?”

“Terrible. It’s impossible to get any work done with him around talking French at you and being all suave and seductive. Sometimes I fuck him just to shut him up.”

“Poor you, Mistress.”

“Tell me about it.”

As Sheridan dissolved again into laughter, The Mistress slid her hands upward and covered the girl’s breasts with both hands.

Then the laughter stopped.

The Mistress smiled. Just the reaction she wanted.

At first, The Mistress did nothing but let the heat of her hands seep into Sheridan’s body through her breasts. Under her palms, she felt Sheridan’s nipples harden.

“You have beautiful breasts, Little Miss. Perfectly shaped. Beautiful nipples the color of pink roses.”

“I have no breasts. I’m an A-cup.” Sheridan sounded genuinely upset with her own body. “I should get implants. My agent says—”

“Fuck your agent. You get implants and you could lose sensitivity. Are fake boobs really worth never feeling this again?” The Mistress punctuated her sentence by gently pinching both of Sheridan’s nipples, a move that elicited one of the more erotic gasps ever uttered since the invention of gasping.

“No...I’d hate to lose that,” Sheridan confessed.

“Then don’t. Your body is perfect. Don’t fuck with it. That’s my job.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl. Now shut up and lay there. I’ve got a girl to get off.”

A new smile appeared on Sheridan’s face in place of the old, nervous smile. This smile was amorous, heated, sexy beyond description and exactly what The Mistress was going for.