Lines
Added 2021-04-26 15:49:09 +0000 UTCA classic task, a writing assignment, but the one your dominant has set you is very simple. A single line, over, and over again.
* * *
The words they had given you were flowing uninterrupted through your brain.
I am a good toy. I must obey.
They were the truth. You were a good toy. And so you had to obey.
But the words in your head weren’t enough. It felt like a pressure was building, and you needed an outlet.
Before long, your mouth was moving, at first just mouthing them, soundlessly, but eventually the only thought that was looping in your head was spilling out of your lips, and getting louder with each repetition. More sure. More correct.
“I am good toy. I must obey. I am a good toy. I must obey. I am a good toy. I must obey.”
But that still wasn’t enough. You needed to do something with those words. Your body began to move, and as it did, a needy tinge of pleasure began.
Your hands grabbed paper and a pen, and, as one hand began to write, the other hand went down, touching yourself. Hungrily, needily, desperately. With each line you filled, the pleasure got greater. Building, bubbling up. At some point, the page was turned over.
Had you done it? You couldn’t remember. You were lost in the pleasure, the need to obey your programming. And the pleasure eventually reached its climax, making your back arch in your chair as the orgasm coursed through you, and you relaxed, exhausted.
As you came out of the haze of arousal and the afterglow, your body did one more automatic action, taking a photo of the paper, and sending it to your dominant. Proof that you were a good toy. Proof that you had obeyed. As their reply buzzed in, excitement came with it.
