by C. H.
Master is railing me from behind. Maybe it’s not the first time today. I don’t know. I’m on the mattress, in my position, and looking at the spiral on the screen, so I can’t know.
Because I’m only allowed to know four things:
That I’m an obedient girl.
That I must look at the spiral.
That I must remain in my position on the mattress, and—
That I’m waiting for my pleasure.
See? There’s no room for me to know anything else. It’s okay. Master brainwashed me so I don’t need to know more. I’m an obedient girl and I hold my position and I look at the spiral.
I don’t feel pleasure now. I don’t feel anything. Master will give my pleasure to me when He wants to. He will say a word, a word that I don’t know, and then I will explode. What I’m not feeling since He penetrated me will be felt by my body all at once. All the light of a day compressed, folded, into just a second. I may even pass out if the accumulated pleasure is enough. I seem to remember that I’ve passed out before, but I don’t know.
So I wait.
I’m drooling on the mattress.
I’m listening to Master’s moans.
I’m looking at the spiral, gathering pleasure thanks to His pleasure, and waiting.