Torment

I'm burning with embarrassment. They can't see it, but they know it nonetheless. That is why they have placed me in this position.

Tormentresses. My tormentresses. Three beautiful women who seem to enjoy nothing more than making me suffer as they laugh.

Ms. Milliscent, Ms. Lisa, Ms. Tiffany. How I burn with desire for them, a desire to endure whatever they ask, to serve however they command. Pain, humiliation, torture, all of these I suffer at their hands.

We are in Studio Milliscent, where my tormentresses are relaxing on the couch. What of me you may wonder? I am on a padded bench in front of that same couch, a bench placed much as a coffee table would be placed in a less exciting environment. I'm nude of course, on my hands and knees. My legs are spread, my ass is pushing high into the air.

The women are clothed, I am nude. They are sitting, I am kneeling. I can't see them, they see me at my most exposed. Is it any wonder that embarrassment has overtaken me so?

They are discussing me, discussing what they shall do to me.

It is forever exciting, forever causing me to feel twinges of anticipation and fear deep within my chest.

They laugh at their ideas, they laugh at me when my body reacts to those ideas.

Oh, how I love to suffer for these three beautiful women.