My Special Place

You are a goon girl. You’re an edge puppet. You obey your clit because you’re a slave to it. Your clit tells you when you should rub her. When you should squeeze her, when you should grind her against something. You listen because she owns you, and you love her control. She makes you wet, and tells you when to touch; when to rub and rub and rub until your scent fills the air, until the smell of your pussy in the room makes you want to touch again. 

You rub until you’re late to meet friends

You rub until you lose sleep

You rub until you miss meals

You rub at home in bed, when you can get comfortable and enjoy yourself

You rub at work when you get too achey and need the touch

She makes you do all of this, and you love her for it.

I was so embarrassed but I grabbed the end of my skirt and lifted it so he could clearly see I was wearing panties. He smiled and told me he should have known better. He knew I was a good girl. I went to put my skirt back down but he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. He told me that I was the prettiest girl he’d ever taught. He gushed about how mature I was for my age despite still looking like an innocent little angel. He told me that seeing me now in my panties made him feel things and asked if he could touch me. 

I tried to tell him that I didn’t think it was a good idea but he just shushed me and told me it was okay while reaching into my underwear and swirling his finger softly on my clit. I wanted him to stop but I froze. I was horrified when I realized I couldn’t stop how my body was reacting to his fingers playfully teasing me. To my surprise it was starting to feel good. Really good. My face flushed red in embarrassment and shame as I felt his fingers starting to glide in and out of me with ease because of how wet I was.