Jen had been sitting alone at Starbucks, enjoying a coffee and a book. He stood behind her and placed a hand on her elbow.
“Excuse me, do you mind if I join you?”
She turned to face him and replied reflexively, without thinking. “Not at all, I’d love that.”
He smiled, moving to the other side of the table and taking a seat. She frowned thoughtfully. That was odd. Why had she said that? The last thing she wanted was to be bothered right now. Oh well – hopefully he’d sit quietly and not bother her. Maybe he just wanted a seat. It was pretty crowded, after all.
He leaned in, touching her forearm. “I hope I’m not bothering you if I chat a bit.”
She smiled. “No, that would be great.” What? What was her problem?
He nodded. “You can go ahead and put the book away, then, if you like.” She removed her hand from the page, letting the cover drop closed. Jen was mildly annoyed with herself – she didn’t even bother putting in her bookmark. Her skin kind of tingled where he was touching her.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling. “You don’t mind if I touch your arm like this, do you?”
She wanted to tell him that she did mind, that it was creepy and inappropriate and that it was freaking her out. She was starting to think it was doing something to her, actually. Why else would she be acting like this?
Instead, she gave a pleasant smile and said, “No, I don’t mind.”
“Great. You probably have realized that me touching you like this makes you extremely suggestible. That doesn’t bother you at all, though, does it?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I thought so,” Jen said. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Hadn’t it bothered her a moment ago? Oh well. That wasn’t important.
“I’m so glad,” he said. “You’re very cute. I think I’d like to take you home, have sex with you, and fuck up your mind a bit. Would you enjoy that?”
She nodded again, eagerly. The skin of her arm felt so nice and hot and tingly where his hand was pressed against it. “That sounds amazing,” she said earnestly.
He stood up, taking her by the hand, and lead her out to his car. She followed him, as if in a dream.
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“What’s your name?”
“jennislut,” she breathed.
“What’s my name?”
“Master,” she moaned.
“What are you?”
“Your dumb bimbo fucktoy,” she gasped.
“What will you do for me?”
“Anything,“ she squealed. She had thought his hand on her arm felt good, but that was nothing compared to the sensation of his fingers in her slutty wet cunt. Her pretty bimbo tits bounced as her body shook, Master’s hand in her hair, Master’s face next to hers. jennislut whimpered, hips bucking. He spoke to her, whispering, and she could barely understand what he was saying. She could feel herself forgetting, though. Everything before today was turning to dust, crumbling like rotten wood, leaving nothing in her mind but the fact that she was jennislut and he was her Master.
Her world shrank. There was nothing but him, and his touch, and her body, and his whispered words. He tugged on her hair, speaking into her ear with soft and measured tones. jennislut realized she’d never have another thought that wasn’t put there by her Master, and she began to cum and cum and cum, like she was never going to stop.
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Thanks for the submission! Fantastic photo, definitely a good source of inspiration.