She Knows

She doesn't know how long she's been sitting in the chair. She knows that she's sitting here because he told her to, just as his directions are the reason she's naked. He's also responsible for her easy compliance, though, deep down, she knows that the will she used to have was given away freely.

She knows that the seat under her is hard, and it feels good against her bare cunt. She knows she's already aroused, her folds wet and swollen, and that, if she wanted to, she could rock against the hardness of the chair, and that it would feel good.

But she stays still. Because that's what he told her to do.

Take off your clothes. Sit down. Don't move.

Good girl.

She's a good girl.

She knows she's a good girl.

Just like she knows her breasts feel full and heavy. Her arousal has them aching to be touched. Her nipples are so hard, so swollen, they're almost painful. But she welcomes the discomfort because she knows how good they look, jutting out large and dark from the creamy skin of her tits.

He loves huge, hard nipples, so the approval in his eyes is well worth the discomfort from the little suction devices she uses every night, and the stares and comments from other men when the hard nubs show through her clothing.

She could try and hide her hard nipples with bra inserts or padding, but she knows he likes it when strange men objectify and ogle her body. So, she wears bras and tops made out of thin, light material, and she makes sure to keep her shoulders back so her chest is pushed forward.

It's humiliating, being on display and open to blatant leers and lewd comments. Men say awful things to her. They make her feel dirty. She feels like a slut. She feels like a whore.

She loves it.

She can't remember if she used to love feeling like that, before they started this game, or if she only started loving it after months and months of listening to the files he gave her. Every night she lies down with his voice in her ear. When she wakes up, she has no recollection of what's been said, and whenever she tries to remember any of his words, her mind becomes a hopeless muddle. She wonders sometimes, what he's done to her. How she's let herself be changed. She's pretty sure that there are a lot of things she does now that she wouldn't have enjoyed doing before she gave herself, her mind, to him.

Like the pictures he takes during some of their sessions.

Like what she does in those pictures.

Before, she thinks she probably would have been horrified at even the thought of some man having just general nude photographs of her, let alone the truly obscene ones he has tucked away in a folder on his password protected laptop.

Now, though, she not only poses for him, she happily listens as He tells her what he plans to do with those pictures. His promise to spread the pictures around, to email them to acquaintances and post them on websites, always fills her with a strange mix of trepidation and anticipation. The mere thought of the shame and degradation she'll feel at knowing that images of her naked body will be on the internet, viewed and downloaded by complete strangers and forever out of her control, is enough to leave her panting and wet.

She can't wait.

Then she wonders, when he finally makes good on that promise, what he'll come up with next.

It's almost maddening, waiting for him to make a move.

She knows he's entered the room again. She can sense his presence behind her left shoulder. As with everything else, he takes his time.

Finally, he speaks to her. "Hello, Pet."

"Sir."

"Have you been a good girl, Pet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you been keeping your pussy shaved and your tits on display?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, girl." He pets her hair, then lets his hand trace down her jaw to her throat then onto her right breast. His touch is gentle until he gets to her nipple which he pinches with an intensity that has her gasping and producing a freash wave of juices from between her thighs.

She's going to leave a wet mark on the chair.

She wonders if he'll have her lick it off.

That would be humiliating.

And hot.

She hopes he has his camera with him.