after you approve the collar we shop for leashes together, but i'm in a daze. every time i start to regain my composure, you reach under my skirt and bring me to the brink of orgasm, then laugh at my whines when you step away.
as you edge me over and over, you taunt me- telling me i'm a desperate slut, just your little fucktoy, this is what i'm meant for, look at how pathetic and wet i am. then you have me repeat it back to you, and in my desperation i start adding to it, telling you that this is what i deserve for being such a whore, that it doesn't matter what i want as long as i'm pleasing you, begging to let me suck your cock to show you what a good girl i am.
after you push me so perilously close to the edge again, i finally tell you i can't take it anymore. you push me against the wall, using the leash across my throat to hold me in place. "touch yourself."
"sir please, i can't--"
you add pressure to the leash choking me and lean in closer, so your lips brush mine when you tell me, "that wasn't a request, slut."
i whimper but reach under my skirt and run my fingers up and down my wet pussy lips. you loosen the leash a little and kiss me just as my fingers find my swollen clit, and i can feel you smile when i gasp into your mouth.
you continue kissing me while i touch myself, seemingly unaffected by my need, just holding me in place in this pet store like we have all the time in the world. when you hear my breathing change as i get closer to the edge, you order me stop and continue lazily kissing me, completely ignoring my desperate whines and rocking hips.
when my breathing calms you order me to do it again, and again, and again. sometimes you order me to fuck myself, or lick my fingers clean, or pinch my nipples since your hands are still holding the leash across my throat. we keep going until nothing matters except your voice and my throbbing clit. i don't care anymore that we're in public, that all i can hear in this store anymore is my moans and wet pussy, that there's no way i could get within 20 feet of the cashier without him being able to smell the juices dripping out of me. all i care about is obeying you and ending this torment.
i don't know what you're waiting for or want from me and i'm too far past rational thought to think about it or even ask. after the fifth time in a row of making me edge myself, each session getting shorter and shorter, i burst into tears when you order me to stop.
you step back from me and admire your handiwork. i'm leaning against the wall, eyes closed, still crying. my inner thighs are glistening, my juices running down my legs in a way that's impossible to miss. even as i cry, my hips are rocking, still so desperate for any touch.
you cup the side of my face and tell me i'm a good girl, petting my hair and telling me how obedient i am in between you sucking my fingers clean. when i have enough composure back to look at you, you smile at me and ask if i'd like to cum.
i immediately stand up straighter. "yes sir."
"you'll still have to earn it," you tell me. i nod. "what will you do to earn an orgasm today, baby?"
you ask it so innocently, but your hand slips under my skirt and finds my clit again before i can answer. "anything, i'll do anything to cum, please daddy," i beg.
