Here's a story I don't plan to finish. Please finish it for me, in your dreams.
She was wet. Again. She couldn’t help it. These thoughts came into her head unbidden and left her panties damp. Tonight it was their waiter at dinner with her sister. He had a goatee, and tattoos, and the most winning smile... Was it her fault she immediately imagined wrapping her legs around his back while he fucked her?
It didn’t matter. Kal would blame her. He’d call her a slut and she’d get even wetter at his disdain. As if summoned by her though, the bedroom door opened. Kal smiled at her and Penny’s heart melted. How had she even thought the waiter was appealing compared to Kal? His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, his close-cropped hair gleamed silver in the lamplight. Penny loved his supple lips, his broad shoulders. Everything about him aroused her.
The truth was, she’d have been wet by then even if it hadn’t been for the waiter.
It was their little game, Panty Check, a ritual that took place every evening Kal could be at home. “Show me,” said Kal. He stood at the end of the bed, towering over her. She lifted her bottom and pulled down her simple black panties. Any other style was not allowed: Only plain black cotton, Kal claimed, let him properly monitor her arousal. Penny stretched the elastic over her feet and handed them up to Kal. Surely he could already see the dark mark of dampness, and the translucent streaks of dried juices.
Kal brought the panties to his nose and inhaled, a move which always embarrassed Penny. She couldn’t be sure she smelled good. “Well,” said Kal. “So far, so naughty. Spread your legs, little girl.”
Penny obediently shifted back on the bed and spread her legs apart. Kal bent one of his knees to rest on the mattress and swiped her slit with two fingers. “Soaking wet!” he crowed, holding them up to study the clear mucus against the light. Then he returned his fingers to her cunt, sliding them up and down a few times through her slickness.
“Someones been a bad, bad girl,” he said. Penny shivered.
It didn’t matter, then, that it was a game. Kal was her keeper, and she was his pet, at his mercy entirely. She was intensely aroused and definitely afraid. Some nights Kal punished her. Some nights he fucked her. Some nights he left her tied up in an agony of arousal to think about the error of her ways. And some nights he did all three.
Tonight, she thought from the gleam in his eye, he was going to try and make her cry. With thumb and first finger, he flicked her inner thigh, hard enough to make her wince. And then he repeated the motion against her clit. It stung like the strike of a match. Oh yes, tonight was the night he would keep his promise.
They’d talked about tears for a long time, since they’d first started sharing sexual secrets. “I haven’t cried since my sister was sick,” Penny had told him. “I fantasize about it, losing control like that. But I don’t think I can get there without real physical harm, or more than I want to really allow.”
“You don’t think you can cry?” Kal had asked. “That’s too bad. Every little girl ought to be brought to tears once in awhile.” He’d promised to try and take her there someday.
More recently, he’d used the threat of making her cry to bring her to orgasm. It worked over and over again, while he fucked or fingered her, whispered words pushing her quickly over the edge. “I’m going to fuck your ass while you beg for mercy,” he’d said last night. “I’m going to fuck you hard while you weep and struggle. ” Her climax had started then, while he still muttered in her ear, “And then I’m going to make you come while tears are still pouring down your face. And you’re going to kiss me and thank me and call me Daddy.”
Tonight he was kneeling over her, grinning down. “You know what tonight is, don’t you, little girl?” He accented his next words with more finger flicks against her tender clit. “Tonight is the night I Make.” flick “Penny.” flick “Cry.” flick.