Peach

At first, it was just a noise.

A little click He made when i blushed or squirmed.

i thought it was just Him being playful.

But it started showing up at the worst times.

He’d click and i'd be dripping through my panties. i spread my legs without thinking.

i whimpered mid-sentence because my clit hurt from how needy i’d gotten.

And every time, it made me wetter.

Every. single. time.

i didn’t even notice what was happening.

i thought i was just being a slut.

Didn’t realize He was rewarding it. Reinforcing it. Training me.

Until the day He clicked, and my body snapped.

Like a toy.

i dropped to all fours, drooling, hips up, hole twitching —

no thought, no hesitation, just desperation.

i didn’t think. i couldn’t.

My brain was fogged, dripping out between my legs, and all i could hear was:

click. click. good girl. click.

Now i cum when He clicks.

i thank him for it or even beg him to please click.

i'm a conditioned little thing now.

His needy, broken little thing.

i hope He never stops.

Edging

i just wanted to edge.

Just tease a little. Feel that ache in my clit and not give in.

But my hands…

They keep moving on their own. Fingertips brushing down, trembling like they already know where to go.

And it’s not even a decision anymore. It’s instinct.

i tell myself i'm in control. That i can stop.

But deep down, i know i won’t.

And maybe… maybe i don’t want to.

i’m not changing, right?

i’m just… sensitive. needy.

Not broken. Not ruined.

...right?

you’re not being objectified — you are the object.

the toy. the reward. the display. the fantasy.

you don’t exist to be respected — you exist to be craved.

to be looked at. touched. used.

and when you whimper like that?