Marie learns how to be a Good Girl

Those two words echoed in my mind. Good girl. It was like he'd brushed over my clit again, but his hands hadn't moved. “W-what?”

He wrapped me in a tighter hug and pulled me fully into his lap, his hard penis slapping between my outer labia. “Do you want to know what happens when I put my penis in your vagina?” His eyes glinted in amusement as I stiffened in his lap. “Do you want us to have sex together?”

Oooh, so that's what that word means~

I nodded so fast the edges of my vision blurred, but stayed locked on his face in the mirror. “Yes! I want that! I want to have sex.” I pushed against his shoulders to raise myself up, gasping as his penis slid along my vulva. “Now! I wanna feel you in me~!”

“Of course Marie, I'd love to have sex with you.” He said calmly.

I tried to angle myself properly, but it was clumsy and awkward and only served to soak his penis until it was shiny and slick and squishing my clit. It didn't help that Trevor was doing his best to hold me still.

“Whyyy!?” I whined, pouting at him in the mirror. “You said you wanna!”

“Marie.” He lifted me until his penis wasn't touching me at all. Nooo! “Are you being a good girl for me?”

I froze. His firm but caring voice hitting somewhere deep inside me. I was suddenly filled with something close to shame— but somehow good? “I… No?”

Trevor shook his head sadly. “No, you're not being a good girl.” He squeezed my butt and smacked it lightly. “You're being a brat.”

My eyes teared up and my chest was tight, but I also wanted to smile. “I'm sorry! How do I be a good girl? I don't remember… I feel so sad! But in a good way? Tell me how to be a good girl!” I pleaded at him, emotions jumbled except for the insistent want.

“Don't worry, I'll teach you.” He kissed the back of my neck. “I have plenty of experience with brats.” He grinned, and suddenly his whole demeanor changed back to what I first saw. A total dork. “You could say I know just how to handle one exactly like you~”

“Humph! Then you should know when I want you to just get on with it!” I challenged. Feeling a sense of deja vu, not for the first or even the tenth time in the past hour, but this was the most dramatic example. Like this exact situation had played out before.

“You want me to get on with it?” He growled in my ear, fingers digging into my hips. “Alright then, remember you asked for this.”

I braced myself for him to ram inside me, push me down, toss me away, something! Not for him to let go of me and lay back on the bed.

I was left up on my knees, straddling his waist with his penis a few inches away from my hole. I blinked dumbly a couple times at my stunned reflection. “Eh?”

“Well?” Trevor drawled. “Get on with it.”

Then he yawned and closed his eyes, reaching for a pillow to prop his head up.

What.

“What!?” I spun around to face him, sitting on his abs and pressing my hands on his shoulders, not that he seemed to react. “Y-y-you can't do that!”

One eye cracked open and examined my smushed together breasts lazily. “Can't what? Be specific.”

“We were gonna have sex!”

“We still can.” He patted my side. “Turn around. My dick is right there. Go nuts.”

I filed away the new word for penis— I could use context clues— and stared down at the infuriating man, my hands tightening into fists on his chest. “This isn't what I wanted! You were supposed to teach me!” The faint buzzing of my voice was not a shrill whine as I said that!

“I was gonna teach you how to be a good girl…” He paused, watching me fume. “But you got all impatient.”

“But—” He raised a single eyebrow and I wilted. “How do I be a good girl? Please, teach me.” I asked in a small voice.

Trevor smiled and sat back up, hugging my head to his chest. “You do exactly that. Good girls are polite. They say please and thank you and don't interrupt their teachers.” I shivered at the almost song-like rhythm of his words. “Do you want to try this again? Can you be my good girl?”

“Yes! Please, Trevor, can you teach me how to be a good girl? Can we please have sex?”

“A good girl would call me sir when she's like this.” He stated.

“Yes, yessir!”

“Good girl.”

“Ah!” The words felt like they tickled my ears on the way to my brain— or whatever held my mind. I shivered yet again. “Imma good girl~”

His hand rested on the back of my neck and squeezed gently, his fingers massaging the base of my skull under my hair. I went limp, melting into his hold with a noise I couldn't identify.

I…I didn't really know what was going on, but I liked it. Loved it, even. When he took control, **** me to slow down, tamed me~ I felt warm and safe and loved in a way that was more than just the physical sensation. There was an emotional connection, an exchange of trust and power. I couldn't resist at all once he'd started really pushing me to behave. Be his Good Girl.

Was this why I removed my memories? So I could experience this fresh? Being owned without anything holding me back?

Worth it.