Let’s take a look.

It doesn’t look like much, certainly not some kind of sadistic instrument of sexual ****. It’s just an unadorned, oblong piece of black plastic about the length and width of your finger, and another larger one (a good size to fit into your hand) with a few lights glowing along its length.

“What am I looking at here?” you ask.

“That,” Grace says, pointing to the smaller object, “is a bullet vibrator, meant to be shoved fully into a cunt of the wielder’s choice. And that”—she points to the larger object—“is its remote control.”

Understanding dawns immediately. “It gives the user complete control over the sexual impulses of whoever the submissive is, without even having to touch them. That’s a lot of power in such a small package. I guess it really is true that it’s not about size, it’s how you use it.”

“Just so,” Grace says with a nod, a glimmer of her old confidence returning for a moment. Then she seems to realize who exactly the hypothetical submissive is, and her eyes widen just a fraction. “Are you going to...put it in me?”

“You know,” you say, “I don’t think I need to.”

Grace’s naked body gives another delightful little quiver, and she picks up the vibrator off the table as you take the remote. “I await your order, Master John.”

You open your mouth to order her to stick it inside, then close it. You have a better idea. “No. No orders this time.”

Grace blinks in confusion, shooting you a quizzical look.

“I’m going to let you make a choice,” you say. “No strings attached. If you like, you can set that down on the table right now and walk away. I promise I won’t punish you. We’ll find some other fun, sexy thing to do together—not like there’s a shortage of those around here.”

Now eyeing you with open suspicion, Lady Grace says, “Permission to speak freely, Master?”

“Granted.”

“What’s the catch?” she asks simply.

You smirk at her. “There isn’t one.”

She just stares at you skeptically, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And you’re happy to oblige. “At least...there isn’t one if you don’t want this. If there’s no part of you that’s turned on by the thought of shoving that little toy in your tight pussy and revving it up until you see stars. If there’s no part of you that wants to know what it’s like for someone else to have that much control over you for a change. But...”

You glance meaningfully down between her legs. A small trickle of girlcum is trailing from her snatch, rolling down her inner thigh.

“I think there’s at least one part of you that would like that very much,” you finish smugly.

Grace glances from the vibrator in her hand to you and back again. She pointedly does _not _look down at her pussy, or even so much as twitch a hand in that direction. It must be an incredible effort of will to stop herself. “If I acquiesce, I assume you intend to do to me exactly what I’ve done to others in the past while holding the remote. You’ll use my libido against me to get me to pleasure you however you like. You’ll push me to the brink of orgasm and then deny me. I’ll be a **** not just to you, but to my own sexual desires.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” you say, nodding enthusiastically. “If you really are a dominatrix to the bone, and you’d never let anyone do that to you, you can walk away. But if you’re willing to admit what your pussy is already telling me, well, you know what to do.”

Grace closes her eyes to think about it, but not for long. When she opens them, she’s gazing at you not with fear or submission, but open admiration.

“You, Master John, are far better at this than I ever could have imagined you would be,” she says.

Then, quick as lightning, she lowers the bullet vibrator between her thighs and jams it deep into her dripping cunt.