Massage your tits

With your left hand resting on your hairless pubic mound, your fingers still tickling your clit, you lift your right breast in your free hand. You've cupped this thing in your hands a million times before, but never felt the sensation of having it cupped by your own small hand. You feel the weight on your palm, and feel your palm against its underside.

You give it an experimental squeeze, letting your fingers slide toward the nipple as your wrap your fingers around your soft breast flesh. The sensation is surprisingly arousing.

“Jesus,” you mutter under your breath, and hear John chuckle.

“It'll be even worse when I get my hands on them,” he says. “Keep going, honey. This is definitely entertaining.”

“Do you have to watch?” you ask plaintively.

“If I didn't watch, dear, you'd just be some chick fingering herself in the bathroom, which is nice but not terribly exciting. You doing this because I told you to, on the other hand, even though it makes you uncomfortable to be watched while you're doing it - that's exciting. Tell me you're not sopping wet down there right now, and I'll admit defeat and let you masturbate in privacy.”

You say nothing - the fact of the matter is he's right. Masturbation as a performance, and an act of obedience, is pushing all kinds of buttons you've never had pushed before, and you feel like you're close to coming any second now.

You knead your right breast obediently as you frig yourself with your left hand. Your fingers find your vaginal canal, and you slide in a testing finger. You gasp as you feel your vaginal walls clench against the intruding digit.

“Here, dear, why don't you try this?” John says. He hands you a long, thick penis shaped vibrator.