There are tears on her cheeks.
From gagging, from the effort, from the humiliation of what she just did.
From something deeper that I can't quite name.
"Good girl," I say softly, pulling her up onto my lap before she can resist. "You did so well. So incredibly well. I'm so proud of you."
She's shaking.
Silent tears streaming down her face now, leaving tracks through the flush on her cheeks.
I hold her.
Stroke her hair.
Whisper praise I know she probably doesn't want to hear but needs to anyway.
"That was perfect. You're learning so fast. Faster than I expected. You're going to be incredible at the showcase. They're going to see exactly how well-trained you are. How obedient. How devoted."
"I hate you," she whispers brokenly.
"I know."
"I hate this. Hate what you're doing to me. Hate what I'm becoming."
"I know that too."
"Why—" Her voice breaks completely. "Why does my body respond to this? Why do I—why did I get wet from—from doing that?"
"Because pleasure and shame can exist together. Because your body wants what your mind says it shouldn't. Because you're discovering parts of yourself you didn't know existed. Parts the Sanctuary tried to bury and deny."
I slide my hand between her thighs without warning.
She's soaked through her underwear, the fabric damp against my fingers.
Proof that her body wants this even when her mind is screaming no.
"See?" I say quietly. "Your body knows what it wants even when you won't admit it."
"Don't—don't touch me there?—"
"Why not? Don't you want to feel good? Don't you want to be rewarded for doing so well? For following instructions? For being such a good girl?"
"I don't?—"
But her argument dies as I push her underwear aside and slide two fingers inside her easily, her body accepting the intrusion without resistance.
She gasps and clenches around me instinctively.
"You earned this," I say against her ear. "You followed my instructions. You did what I asked even though you hated it. Even though it terrified you. So, now I'm going to make you come. Make you understand that obedience brings pleasure. That submitting to me feels good."
I work my fingers inside her flawlessly, finding that spot deep inside that makes her breath catch.
Use my thumb on her clit in the exact rhythm I know she responds to.
She's already close.
Already wound impossibly tight from the humiliation and the arousal and the confusing mix of emotions flooding through her.
