"Pet, dear, I need a lighter," Maria cooed, holding out a cigarette for you to light. The millionaire had taken you in on a whim, you'd been caught digging around in her trash outside of the mansion. You were a pretty thing, she couldn't stand to see you get hauled off by demi-control and likely put down. "Aw, thank you baby," she kissed your nose gently, leaving a dark red lipstick stain on it.

She sat back on the sofa and patted her lap, "C'mere, I'm tired from dealing with morons all day, I need some attention." Maria pulled you closer, sitting you on her knees and running her hands through your hair. "Beautiful, baby." She took pride in how pampered her pet was, you were groomed every month, regular trims, brushing and styling, she even had you your own personal makeup stylist.

She was a clothing designer anyway, of course she made sure you were dressed nicely. Maria was your savior and your biggest fan, the way she looked at you made you feel like so much more than some stray picked up off the streets. "You're such a doll, ugh, I love you." Maria leaned up and kissed you again, sighing a little puff of smoke across your face.

She leaned back and kept running her hand over your thigh, smiling to herself and letting her eyes rake over your body, "We need to get your tail tended to, hmn pet? It looks unkempt." Maria would die before her pet was left looking ratty.