Harried Harlot

I moan softly, fealing myasself orgasm. Not knowing if it was a previous command he gave to reward me for being so obedient, or my body responding all on its own. Not that I cared either way; at least, not just then. I hear his voice, booming once more, over the crowd, "and yet she still denies you! For she still has something on, doesn't she!"

The crowd gasps,s buffs and scolds, the sound changing so suddenly that even now, I figure it must be a known, performative act... something they must have seen him do before. My mind cares not, as I smile back, pleasure mounting, as I wait for what he will comment next. "Take it off, Harlot! Remove the offending garment now! I command it!

The crowd makes sounds in complete agreement to his words, as if they held any weight on my mind. Even if they normally would, they don't now; only his commands matter to me. Smiling his way blissfully, I reach down and casually undo the g-string, pulling it scantily off, my mind making it arousing as I can, bending over as I move it slowly, side to side and off. Making a show of it, I spread my legs wider, giving them a solid view at what little its faberic every really hid from them.

Leaning on my feet, I step out of the thin, small fabric, handing it to the host before blowing them a kiss. Soon, more commands follow, and I'm dancing before them, sliding and shaking before them. Each move in turn leading to my breast bouncing, my ass shaking, my mound quivering just so before them. The whole time I'm performing before them, it's as though my mind only cares for what he says, and it's every sound my command.

The crowd loves all of it, recording it as they cheer, rough declarations punctuating the sounds of their joy. Throughout it, I only really hear one person's voice... that of my master, whom I follow without hesitation or delay.