I was jolted awake by the doorbell ringing. The television blared old comedy reruns as the bell rang again several times in quick, frantic succession. I stared dumbly in the direction of the door before I overcame my drowsiness and stood up. I checked the time: 10:00 P.M. Who in blazes would be calling at this time of night? I had half a mind to not get the door, but the annoying ringing would not stop.

Baseball bat in hand, I trudged toward the door sleepily, and swung it open, getting ready to smash the intruder that dared interrupt my night. Not that I had been doing anything important.

It was raining hard, but my house had an awning, a little covered walkway that led to the door. I saw and heard the lightening and thunder and the fierce pitter-patter of rain before I saw the little, soaking wet girl standing at my doorstep, who muttered softly to herself.

She was a HumanPet. There was no doubt about it. Although they looked human, most people could tell at a glance the difference, and this was definitely a HumanPet. The poor little girl was probably only nine or ten. She had brilliant blonde hair and faded blue eyes, but right now, her eyes shown with fear and cautious hope, and her blonde hair hung in wet strands around her neck. I stared at her dumbly before actually hearing what she said. Her teeth chattered wildly, and she rubbed her arms, trying to warm up.

"P-p-p-please, sir. I'm s-s-s-so cold. Let me in, please, sir, if only for a few minutes. It's so cold!" Despite her predicament, I saw a set of the jaw, a fierce determination to survive. Despite her begging, she held herself confidently, with an inner steel that appealed to me.

I sighed. She could very possibly be a serial killer, a rogue HumanPet, a very accomplished thief, or any combination of the above. But, against all survival instinct, I backed away from the door and held it open, giving her a good view of the almost muted television and the crackling fire. "C'mon in..." I had to suppress a yawn.

"Thank you, sir," she said timidly. I could see her measured steps, trying not to rush to the fire, to jump into the couch and blankets. Instead, she sat very carefully in front of the fire, letting it warm her little shivering body. I could see her visibly relax as she warmed, and she let out a few cute little sneezes.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. Poor girl, she had probably been out all the stormy night. But what had happened?

She turned back toward me and nodded dumbly.

"Wrap yourself in the blankets. I'll be back in a few with a mug of hot chocolate, okay?"

When I came back with the hot chocolate, the Pet had taken every single blanket and covering in sight and enveloped them around her. She appeared more to be a mass of cloth than anything else now. I smiled as I tapped her on the shoulder and handed her the steaming drink. Small, delicate hands extracted themselves from the mound and wrapped themselves around the cup.

"Thank you, sir." She began to sip carefully but hastily, not wanting to burn herself but needing some sort of nourishment.

I smiled and patted her head, ruffling her hair. I never had a HumanPet before, but it seemed right. A small purring growl emerged from her, to be quickly muffled as she took another sip of the scalding chocolate.

"Just call me Andy, okay?" Damn, she was adorable, plump little cheeks flushed with heat, crystal blue eyes.

"Okay...Andy. I'm...I'm...I WAS Princess!" Tears began to stream from her eyes, but she seemed not to notice them as she drank another gulp of hot chocolate, almost choking on the sweet, hot liquid.

"What's wrong, Princess?" I patted her head again, trying to get her purring again. The name fit her. She carried herself with the dignity of the princess, and looked exactly like the princesses of fairy tales.

Through sobs and hot chocolate, her story came out. Despite her emotional state, her voice was clear and strong. She had belonged to a rich family up the street and the hill. I didn't know the family personally, but they were a moving force in the little community we had, always arranging cook offs, or baseball games. They had bought her four or five years ago, and treated her well. They fed her on PetNutrient (it looked like crap, but I guess it was edible), gave her PetSnacks when she was good, turned her ass red when she wasn't. The son had lost his virginity at twelve to her, and the daughter used her to practice lesbian tricks. She had been a well-loved, well-treated pet.

Then, tragedy struck. The father's business sank, from embezzlement from some of the top executives. Their house began to grow problems, leaks, cracks, almost overnight. The son turned to drinking and became abusive. The daughter entered "that age", and huge fights were common. More than once, anger had been taken out on poor Princess, who went to sleep on the cold floor, clutching her reddened ass. Still, she loved them so well, always making her presence known, trying to keep the violence and fighting at a minimum, no matter what cost to her.

Princess almost couldn't talk through the next part. Through heaving sobs, she told me how, one night, the son had been drinking too much, way too much. On the way back, his car had careened off the road, and crashed, sending the son into a coma, and ripping the family apart. The daughter had gone off to college, and thrown away her parent's money partying. Mom lost a family member, and Dad just couldn't float the family any more. They kept up their public image, running fundraisers and barbecues, but inside, they was broken. And despite all Princess's attempts at help, nothing worked. The family grew into a living hell.

Nevertheless, she would have stuck with them to the end, no matter what. But that apparently wasn't what they wanted. Now that the son was gone, Princess slept in his bed, trying to remember how, whenever he was sad, mad, or anything in between, he would hold her, cuddle her, and maybe make a little love. It made her nights and days bearable. But the parents were of a different mind. To them, Princess was the reminder of all their failures. Not only was she expensive to upkeep, but she reminded them of their son, so promising, yet ruined by alcohol.

So, on this dark, story, night, they kicked her out. The dad, hair going gray, frustrated at his inability to navigate the stock market, had another huge argument with the mom, and, suddenly, their anger turned to Princess, again. Unfortunately, this argument had something different, something so much more malevolent. They handed her the remote control that had once belonged to their son, and booted Princess straight out the door. She had cried and pounded on the door for what felt like hours, watching the father and mother slowly make up with each other. Wrenching her eyes away from the touching and painful scene, carrying her own remote, Princess had made her way down the huge hill, knocking and ringing at doors, begging for shelter.

I was the only one who had been brave enough to let her in. She snuggled in her blankets even more tightly as she remembered the faces of denial. Mothers with children sleepily grabbing at their nightgowns closed the door with horror. Creepy old men with glints in their eyes, she had to run away from as they tried to grab her wet hair. Teenaged boys in pajamas eyed her with unabated lust. I was the only one that seemed nice enough, innocent enough. As she said this, she handed me her remote control, her most precious gift, her very being itself. It was a newer model, with a touch screen with two choices, "Find", and "Sleep". I set it above the fireplace for safekeeping.

Her storytelling had drained a lot. The hot chocolate was finished as she tipped the mug into her mouth, getting the last, wet, dusty dregs. Her eyes suddenly looked like they wouldn't stay open, and she yawned widely, cutely stretching her limbs. I patted and rubbed her head, and was rewarded with a sleepy little purr.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight? In front of the fire?"

Princess nodded, and tipped over, a mass of blankets. She yawned and stretched again, and wiggled into a more comfortable position. "You want a pillow?"

A sleepy little shake of the head. I got her one anyways, and propped her head up with it. She drowsily muttered "Thank you..." and snuggled deeper into her blankets.

I decided to sleep on the couch, close to her. It was wide enough, and comfortable enough. I got a thick comforter, laid it over the couch, and folded it in half, making a sort of sleeping bag. As I stared at her small, prone body, I took off my pants and sweater, leaving only a t-shirt and boxers. If she was a thief, it would be a bit harder for her to get out, and if she was a killer, I might as well make her job easier. Fixing Princess's cute little face in my mind, I drifted to sleep, fantasies and cock raging.

I woke up in darkness, moving, being shaken. A sense of drowsy paranoia hit, and one of my hands shot out and grabbed a small wrist, one of the ones that was shaking me. The heater buzzed and hummed quietly in the background as I tried to remember what had happened.

"Andy...Andy...it's me, Princess."

My eyes managed to focus on her little face, and I suddenly remembered. "Oh right...Hi Princess. What time is it?" I squinted at the clock. A little past 4 A.M. But why?

Princess shook me a bit more urgently. "I need to go to the bathroom, Andy. Please, can you take me? I need someone with me..."

I shrugged and pushed myself up tiredly, trying to swipe away the sleepiness in my eyes.

"Okay..." I tumbled out of the couch, got my bearings in the darkness, and took her outstretched hand. She was still smothered in the plethora of blankets, and it appeared to be hard for her to walk and carry them at the same time. "Perhaps you might want to leave some of those behind..." I advised.

Princess agreed, and dropped all except one, a thin, warm, woolen quilt. It dragged on the floor as I guided her to the bathroom.

We walked down the dark hallway, turning on lights as needed, and turned into the bathroom. I snapped on the light, and suddenly, we were both squinting as we tried to adapt ourselves to the sudden invasion of light. The white porcelain toilet beckoned, although the seat was up. I put it down and gestured at it.

"Okay, go to the bathroom. I'll wait outside. Don't forget to wash your hands." I advised.

She grabbed my arm before I could even start.

"Wait...master...Andy. How does this work? I've never...been on a toilet before. I used to go to the bathroom outside, near the oak tree by the park. I thought you were going to take me outside?" she finished pleadingly.

I stared at the small window in the bathroom. While not a thunderstorm anymore, the rain still came down in harsh, cold sheets, and I shuddered at the thought of walking all the way to the oak tree in this weather. I looked back at her.

"Are you sure, Princess? It's raining really hard. If you really have to, I can take you, but we're both going to get wet."

She looked uncertain. "I...I guess I don't have to. But I don't know how to use the toilet!"

I raised an eyebrow incredulously. Really? They had never let her use a toilet? That was...

"Well, it's actually quite easy, Princess. Just pee in the water, and flush it when you're done, using that." I pointed at the flushing lever.

She nodded. "Okay. But stay here, okay? I can't pee with no one else around..." That was funny. I couldn't pee WITH too many people around. Princess stood above the toilet bowl, legs on either side. She unwrapped the quilt from around her, letting me have a perfect view of her nubile body. She was still standing up as the amber fluid began to flow, splashing in the bowl with decent aim, splattering droplets on the inside of her legs. Princess held her vagina lips open for the last few drops, and looked almost orgasmic as she finished. I neglected to tell her that she probably shout have sat down, so entranced was I by the view. She scrubbed her hands, using soap and warm water, and I began to leave the brightly lit bathroom.

"Wait, Andy!" Princess exclaimed. "Aren't you going to...wipe me?"

I turned back. "Uhhh..." Okay, so I could have asked her to wipe herself. It would have been the humane thing to do. If she had gone crap, I would have definitely asked her to wipe herself. But this...

I tore off a bit of toilet paper, and patted her vagina gently with it, getting all the extra moisture. She looked on expectantly as I threw that in the toilet and took another piece to wipe down her legs. She smiled at me as I looked up to her, finished.

"Wow...you were so gentle. Tom was never gentle, and nor was Shelby, or Dad..." Her eyes began to fill with tears. "But...they were..."

I gently took her by the arm, and led her back to the couch. I could see her visibly suppressing tears. Her mess of blankets was just that, a mess now, and I could see it'd be a while before she could make the same cocoon. Princess turned to me, eyes watering and begging.

"Can I...can I sleep with you tonight? On the couch?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sure." The couch was barely big enough for the two of us, but I really didn't want to go to the bed, all the way upstairs. I got in first, then held the blanket open for her. She hesitated for a moment, then dropped her quilt and got in.

Princess's warm, young, firm body pressed against mine. My cock, already hard, grew harder as my fantasies grew in number. But I took no action. Poor Princess was traumatized, and, although I would probably never get a chance like this again, it was not worth it to hurt her further. However, she noticed my tented cock pressing against her ass, and I felt her tense as she touched it and discovered what it was.

I pet her head again. "Sorry, Princess. You're just so pretty. Ignore it. Or, if you want, I can go upstairs, and you can have the couch all to yourself."

She stayed as she was, back to me, but visibly relaxed.

"No...it's fine. I was just afraid you might be..."

I nodded, and patted her head harder.

"Don't worry about that. Just go to sleep. Is there anywhere else you'd like to be patted?" The last question was blurted out, partway fantasy and reality. I really hoped...

"Yes..." she responded shyly. "Here." She patted her hands against her collarbone, the area right above her small chest. I gladly took my hands away from my hair and began to pet her there, massaging and stroking and pressing. A purr bubbled up from the depths of her chest as she enjoyed it.

"Oh...thank you...Andy." I could envision her eyes gently, oh so gently, closing, as she fell into the light sleep of a cat. Her purring never ceased, and I began to drift off too. Her tiny body vibrating next to me, my own eyelids growing heavy, fantasies repeating themselves in my mind, sleepy, so sleepy...