Even more sensation

You reach back into your bag and pull out a tiny remote. I know it very well, and I can feel my sweating picking up.

“You're going to keep on being good for me, aren’t you? Quiet? After all, I can’t have you disturbing the other people on the train.” From a cubicle further down the train, there’s a clearly audible moan. “You know better. I trained you better.”

“Yes, Sir,” I say, my voice cracking.

“Good boy.” You stroke my hair again, and push a button on the remote. The plug in my cunt starts to vibrate. I fall to the floor, not caring about how it’s surely filthy, curling in on myself even as I vaguely register that you’ve only turned it to the middle setting. The plug pulses and shakes within me, and I grind my teeth to keep from vocalizing. I don’t know what would come out. Profanity, maybe. Pleading, probably. I’m trying to do as you want, I’m trying so hard, please don’t make me fail you. But you want me to stay quiet, not to beg, so I tuck myself as tight as I can into the fetal position, screw my eyes shut, and clench down against the drowning tide of sensation rising in me.

A harsh tug at the chain almost makes me forget myself, but I manage to keep it to a yelp. You’re looking down at me, chain pulled tight between your fingers, a slightly disapproving expression on your face.

“Curled up like that, the chain can’t do its job.”