Subby Bambi

I am going to click on like for this post, who cares if the person who reblogged learns what a <degrading adjective> girl I am.

Because, like, I guess I get off on being embarrassed about how <degrading adjective> I am.

Then as I finally muster up the courage to click, I see that I have, in fact, already liked it.

May blinks at herself in the mirror but she can't see a single thing missing from her outfit. "What could I possibly still need?" she asks, a little impatiently.

"You haven't sucked on your dildo," her chambermaid says, and slides a black dildo into May's mouth before she can respond.

May sucks on it instinctively, hand cupped under her mouth so no spit can drip down onto her outfit, and in the mirror the pose looks...familiar.

A vibrator turns on between her legs, even though she hadn't remembered--realized?--one was there, and it's not long before she's watching herself cum in the mirror, lips still stretched around that dildo.

The vibrator shuts off after she's cum, and then the dildo is slid out of her mouth, and her chambermaid fixes up her lipstick and says, "There, now you have a lovely flush to your cheeks."

"Now am I ready for Court?" May asks. She doesn't know what the hold up is.

"Of course, Your Highness," her chambermaid says.

It's fuzzy, your memory is. You believe you woke many times, drifting in and out of slumber, cycling between dream and reality, lines blurring of awareness, fantasy and real bleeding into each other like an undulating pulse, matched only by the pulsing pleasure you felt.

The pleasure. Rippling through your body. You are unsure if it was real or imagined; induced by your own hands, by your exotic dreams, or possibly by the will of another. It seduced you, it controlled you, and it edged you for what seemed like the entire night, leaving you needy and desperate when you woke.

And you woke, hungry for more, knowing that you'd need to wait. Yet you felt a satisfied comfort knowing your spend the day in the delightful torture of anticipation, understanding that if you were good, tonight you would be able to submit once again.

The thought sends a pulse through you and you clench as it spreads and settles right where you need it the most.

You're eager. You're ready. You're mindless, wet, and obedient.