Inktober 2019 #2: Mindless

Being made to get into shiny stockings and crawl around on the floor turned out to not be as sexy as she'd thought it would be; it was mostly embarrassing. And it was even worse when she was ordered to remove her bra and panties. She could feel her partner's eyes watching her as she paraded herself around, especially when she turned and scooted along on her knees with her ass in the air, pussy on full display.

"You're not enjoying this," her partner said.

She could feel her face growing even hotter. "It's okay, honestly... I'm just... Not used to all this."

"Come," said her partner. A finger indicated the floor at their feet. She started to rise, but her partner made a loud *tsking* sound with their tongue and she finished her journey on her hands and knees.

"Good girl."

Her blush deepened. She hadn't known she could feel this hot without her head exploding. But that wasn't the only thing that felt hot. Being bossed around was having an effect on her. She could feel wetness between her legs, and it only intensified her embarrassment.

"I have something to help you relax." What looked like a plastic red heart on a string was dangling from one of their hands. "Watch this closely."

She obeyed. The heart began to swing back and forth before her face, slowly, then faster. She watched it as it turned into a red blur, still feeling the heat of shame and a trickle of pussy juice running down the inside of her naked thigh before encountering the elastic band of her stockings.

"I don't think it's--"

"Shhh..."

And then it happened. Her eyes slid out of focus. She could feel her tensed muscles begin to relax, and everything that had once seemed so immediate was far, far away. This was nice, she thought. Why hadn't she tried this before? Embarrassment faded into the background of her brain. Who was embarrassed? Certainly she wasn't. This was the most natural way to be, on all fours like a good girl, patiently but eagerly waiting to get fucked by her master.

Her brain, now seemingly filled with fog, latched onto the that thought. Fucking. Fucking was good. She wanted to fuck. She needed to fuck. Nothing else mattered.

"Are you relaxed?"

"Aaah..." She seemed to be having trouble putting words together. But she didn't need words. She could communicate by grinding her soaking groin against her partner's leg and whimpering. "Mmmm... Nnnnn..."

"That's a very good girl."