Obeying

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“Stand up. Take off your jeans and knickers and get back down over my knee.”

There’s a microsecond pause whilst I process, my fingers already moving of their own accord to my zip.

“Now!”

There’s a nervous flip in my stomach, my cunt clenching in anticipation. Doing what I’m told just feels right.

I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to think. I just have to do.

I know I’ll get more instructions to follow. Whether I actually want them or not is a different matter, but we both know that I’ll obey. We both know I want to obey. No, need to.

It pleases him when I do. And I like that. It takes the pressure off when I do. And I like that too.

“I bet you’re wet already. Aren’t you, little slut?”

I close my eyes, anticipating what he’s going to do next. Nervous. Humiliation vaguely wafting over me as I realise he knows me better than I think. That my body betrays me at every turn.

“Let’s find out. Open your legs.”

I do, squeezing my eyes shut. Want not want. Need.

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6 thoughts on “Obeying

  1. There can be SUCH freedom in giving over the control and simply doing as your told. Not worrying about the what-ifs and what-nexts of the moment. Just do the thing they say, and deal with the next thing when it happens. I can’t always let go like that, but when I do, it’s bliss.

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