Waiting

The brown-eyed girl has a glass dildo. It’s a pretty thing, long and cool and elegant. I tell her I want a picture of it in her ass.

She doesn’t exactly refuse, but she stalls. It’s too big, she says. I’ve put three fingers in her ass; I know how much she can take. I’m sure the dildo will not stretch her to the limit. But still she hesitates. I think I know why. It’s not the fear that the thing is too big for her. It’s the sense of shame she feels. Of course there a few things that arouse me more than a pretty girl blushing.

‘No hurry,’ I say. ‘I’m a patient man.’ I don’t give her a deadline. Working between the two of us, we need to get her in the right frame of mind to do as she is told. She needs to understand that I would never ask the impossible of her, but nor shall I only ever demand she does easy things. What would be the point? If it isn’t a test of her obedience, or her sluttiness, or her love of edgy, kinky things, then what is the purpose? She needs to be pushed, to feel that there is a will that is greater than hers. When she knows that, she will do what I ask.

It’s going to make a lovely picture. Such a beautiful bottom, such an exquisite toy. I can wait, though my patience is not infinite.

(Later) She is a good girl. She finally did what I asked. They are lovely pictures. She has done well. Now I’m thinking what her next task should be. More images of penetration, I think.