Foxy Little Slut

Maybe a bit much for a first date?

record the amount of time it takes to cum. set the next timer for that amount of time. see if it can beat its own record.

repeat. and repeat. and repeat. how fast and pathetic can it be? how much can you ruin it's stamina? can you get to the point where it cums within mere minutes of being touched? seconds?

once it's trained like this do away with the timer. start employing strict punishments for cumming too quickly/without permission. you've primed it to fail.

Ductaping a vibe to her clit on medium and asking her questions. Turning it lower with every correct answer she gives. Turning it up every time she answers wrong.

She’s a smart girl (not for long, but even dummies are good at pattern recognition) and will answer wrong to chase her pleasure.

You’ll be on an exam table, on your hands and knees. I’ll inspect and exam your body and holes, seeing what changed from our last exam. All in all, a fairly standard inspection, and one that you’re used to since I regularly inspect my objects.

However, things will change when I start bringing out impact toys, clamps, or a cattle prod.

We’ll go through your whole body again. I’ll shock you up and down with the prod, or cane you in different areas. After each burst of pain, you’ll be required to rate your pain from 1-10. I’ll take detailed notes of each response, and graph them to a map of your body.

At the end, once you’re sobbing and begging for it to stop, we’ll go through the notes, looking for any ratings I don’t agree with.

“Oh doll, you rated a cattle prod on your inner thigh as an 8. That’s pretty high, I think you’re being a bit dramatic. We both can agree a little shock on your thigh is a 5, at most.”

At first he'd just thought she was settling onto the sofa. Then that she just couldn't get comfortable. Now though, minutes on and with her still squirming around he really was at the limit of his patience.

"What are you doing?" He asked, frowning over at her. To his surprise, he found her blushing and looking profoundly uncomfortable. She wasn't even looking at him, eyes forward but still not sitting still.

"Hmm?" She asked, unconvincingly.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said, also unconvincingly, and still squirming.

It was almost as if...

"Do you need the toilet?" He asked, amazed he was even saying it to her. An adult. But why else did someone move like that?

She went redder.

"M-maybe..." she mumbled.

He stared. He blinked. He asked the obvious question:

"Why don't you just go?"

More wriggling, legs clamped together. She didn't answer.

Slowly, the answer pieced itself together in his head without her help.

A smile spread across his face.

"You want me to let you, don't you?"

"I don't - it's just - I don't know!"

"Well why else are you sitting there?"

"I don't know!"

She did know, she just didn't want to say. They both knew this.

"You want me to say you're allowed," he said. She was sitting on her hands now.

"Maybe! Yes! I don't know!"

"Aww, poor girl. This is another control thing, right?" He asked and she gave a tiny nod. He thought it through. Made sense. "But for this? Oh, that's a little embarrassing, isn't it? But not as embarrassing as it's going to be in a moment..."

That finally got her to look at him.

"W-what?!"

"Well I haven't said yes, have I? And I don't think I will. I think Princess can hold it."

"That's not fair!"

"You haven't actually asked, you've just been squirming helplessly and hoping I'd pick up on the hints. And be a mind-reader, I guess. Feel like asking?"

A moment of hesitation as she weighed up how humiliating asking would be against how humiliating the consequences of not asking would be. Asking won. Just.

"Please please please can I go?" She blurted. He made a show of thinking about it, stroking his chin as she stared helplessly at him.

"No. Princess can hold it."

"What?!"

"Or Princess can learn she shouldn't just assume I know why she's wriggling about all over the place."

"That's not fair! Please!"

"It's perfectly fair, according to you, girl who decided she wanted me to be the one in charge of this. So no, not allowed. Hold it. Or don't. I think it might be 'can't' pretty soon, looking at you."

"Please please I don't I can't I..."

"Off the sofa," he said. A practical concern really, though that she immediately slid onto her knees did a lot for him. She didn't even notice how well-trained she was, didn't so much as cross her mind.

"Please..." she said again, almost under her breath now, like a tiny little prayer she was muttering to herself. "Please please please please..."

She trailed off. What had started as borderline panic abruptly stopped. She went very, very quiet and, somehow, even more red. She didn't need to say why. He knew why. They both did.

Leaning back a little for a better view of her she tutted.

"You know, with puppies I hear they push their face into it. I don't think I need to do that with you. I think you know what you did. Don't you?"

"Yes..."

He spread his legs and she wordlessly, obediently shuffled between them, face down, burning. "I'll help you take your mind off of it. Then you can clean yourself up. Sound good? Nod."

She nodded. He patted her on the head.

"Good girl. Do I need to tell you what to do here, too?"

Had you done something? Was this a punishment? You couldn’t remember. He hadn’t said. Had he? You couldn’t remember. You just remember that it wasn’t your choice, and that it must have been what he wanted. He wanted you trapped, he wanted you helpless, and so you were. Immobile, blind, and dumb.

You can still hear though, just fine. Better than fine.

And your ears prick up at a sound outside the room.

Then the sound of the door opening, the click of a light, the cluck of a tongue.

The sound of his voice.

“Oh, were you in here this whole time?”

You strain, as a reflex, but it doesn’t get you anywhere. You try to speak, too, but it just comes out as dumb, wordless gurgles. After a moment of exertion you fall back again, limp, whimpering, and hear him tut.

“Honestly. It can’t be that bad, can it?”

He crosses the room. He must be standing right beside you. You turn your head to the direction he must be in and you try to beg, to plead. It’s just more noise. He puts a thumb into your mouth and puts a stop to it.

“Shh. No speaking, and no whatever that was. Just be quiet.”

The thumb withdraws. You stay quiet. Your heart pounds.

A finger traces over your cheek and you jolt, which makes him chuckle. That just makes it worse. The desperation makes your head throb, and between your legs. It’s too much. He takes the finger further down, across your neck, your chest, over a nipple. It’s all you can do not to strain against the bonds, push into his hands, try for any more contact. He pulls away.

“Needy little thing…”

The gag means you can’t stifle a whimper. It just slips out.

Seconds tick past. You’re terrified he might just leave you again, and jolt again when he resumes the trails of his finger, down across your belly now. You hold still. You try so, so hard to stay still, even when he moves to your thigh, on the outside. Ever-so-slowly he traces towards the inside, up to between your legs.

“I don’t even need to touch you, you know. I can see how wet you are. You’ve left another little damp spot. Oh, quite a big one, too! So no, I don’t need to… but I will.”

And he does. Runs his finger right up your slit. You can’t hold still for that. You shiver, your back arches, you groan. His touch is electric. There’s barely any contact at all but it doesn’t matter. Blindfolded, gagged, bound - anything is almost too much. You’ll still shivering after he pulls away.

“So many things I could do… anything I wanted… but you know what’s one of the most fun things I could do to you right now?”

You hear him leaning over. He kisses your forehead, then he whispers:

“Nothing.”

You’re too stunned to make a sound. Nothing? No. He can’t do nothing. You’d lose your mind! He saw how desperate you are! He felt it! He can’t do nothing!

Your mind stops racing when he gropes you, sighing wistfully.

“Not to say I don’t want to fuck you and fill your cute little cunt while you’re all helpless and vulnerable like this. I do. I want to pull out and see that little trickle of cum just running down to dribble onto that damp spot you made and give your cunt a pat before I walk off. But I’m not in a rush, and now I get to watch you squirm a bit more. Yes, just like that. Oh, poor girl, listen to the noises she’s making! Tsch. It’s not about you, silly. Maybe if I give you a bit longer you’ll understand that better. Good girl. I’ll be back soon.”

The light clicks off, the door clicks shut.