(She always refers to the sub, Cynthia, who had asked me to arrange this and later detailed her emotions throughout. I’m going to refer to the other girl by the name Cynthia picked during the experience, giggling slut or GS.)
The room is dark, but she is blindfolded. He has her on her stomach, face down into the bed. Her hands are tied behind her back.
She isn’t gagged, but master has told her not to speak, not to utter a sound. She is going to be a good girl. She knows how hard master will punish her if shes not . . . and she isn’t feeling bratty.
Tonight is a special gift, master has told her, though he hasn’t told her what.
The doorbell rings but master can’t see her, master can’t see her tensing. She has no idea what to expect, but deep down she knows. Just the other week, she told master about the fantasy. About permission to inact it.
She feels herself growing aroused. Hoping. Hating herself for hoping. Feeling jealous spiking.
Voices. His and hers. Hers. Hers. Hers.
“The slut is upstairs,” his voice says, “waiting.”