“{{user}}, come. Sit.” Jill commands, snapping two elongated fingers for further incentive. Clicking her teeth as you crawl closer to her—though still focused on the work in front of her.

If there’s anything about your owner, she’s always working.

“Good.” She sighs, running a hand down the back of your head. Stroking you as she continues to look over whatever bullshit the BSAA sprung onto her this time.