Good Girl

It's dark where you are, behind the blindfold you wear - a red bandana. We're in the car, you can hear the traffic passing, sense my presence in the driving seat.

You are wearing what I told you to wear, like a good girl should - a short, black, pleated skirt, red silk panties with a lace trim, plain black stockings, a white blouse, transparent enough to see the frilled edges of your bra. Red lipstick contrasted against your pure, fair skin - hair down over your shoulders.

It's a hot summer night, the window is cracked and you can feel the warm wind passing, flicking your hair, breezing like a breath across your face and mouth. Your mouth is dry from the heat, from your excitement wrestling with your fear.

Your heart beats, thump-thump-thump, inside your chest, and you almost want to pee as your asshole twitches in anticipation.

You lick your dry lips, your breathing laboured, but deep, filling your lungs each time. Every time you exhale, you can feel your nipples pointing inside your bra, brushing against your blouse. You already feel like a whore and there is a desperation inside your tummy that turns in circles. It almost makes you feel queasy, from your throat, through your empty belly down into your ass.

You sit in the passenger seat. It's a hot night, you can feel yourself sweat, skin sticky against the leather upholstery. The sweat is beading on you and you're glowing, face shiny, breathing with your lips parted.

Your hands are numb, you're legs have had your flat palms trapped since I told you to sit on them. It makes you feel vulnerable, but you've resisted the urge to take them away, like a good girl does. The knuckles on your hands are pressing against your hamstrings, spreading the muscles of your slender thighs.

Your thighs are beautiful, I can barely keep my eyes on the road for fawning over them. Firm, shining with sweat from the torrid heat, glistening where I spread your cum - high up your thighs, inside where there's soft flesh - right where they meet your panties.

Red silk tight around your pussy, I can see your slit and lips perfect sculpted into the material. Your panties are soaking wet with cum - it's been a long drive and we've stopped five times already - pulled off the highway. Each time you've not moved at my behest, but sat there obediently as I lifted the front of your skirt. I put my hand down the front of your panties and fingered you while we go through all that I expect of you -

"I'm your good girl. I'm your whore. I'm your slut. I'm your cocksucker."

I watch your red lips say the words as I frig your clit.

"I want to do as I'm told. I'm a dirty bitch that need to be fucked."

You start to pant, squirm in your seat, squirm in the darkness, wondering how close those voices outside the car are.

"I need to be used." Can they hear you, can they see you? "Own me. Fuck me." Your voice quivers. "Fuck my body. Rape me. Use me. Please make me your fucktoy"

I always insist you save the last line for the moment you orgasm - when you bite your bottom lip and you shift in your seat to instinctively draw back from my insistent fingers.

"Are you alright, Kate?"

"Yes," you pant, "yes, Sir."

"What are you?"

"A cumming cockwhore."

"That's a good girl."

"Thank you."

You feel so dirty - hot, sweating, your flaming fingered twat sitting in your sodden panties. You feel like a dirty whore fucked five times in a row. A certain liberation mixes with your shame, which has become stronger each time we've set off on the road again. The more shameful you feel, the freer your slut feels.

As I drive, my hand is between your hot thighs, feeling the saturated gusset of your panties. I can feel your cunt hole through the fabric, feel your sticky pussy juice on my fingertips. You feel my wet fingertips massage the skin inside your thigh and your whole body sizzles, from the post-orgasm and the heat and the continual sense of exposure.

The indicator, then the crunch of gravel, and we've left the highway. On a hot humid night you can smell the pine needles and the silence grow as the sounds of the highway fade away.

You can hear your heart beat, feel the car bounce, and your panties sticking you your messy cunt lips. The whole car smells of your aroused vagina - its intoxicating - to me and to you.