~~~~

She’s cheating, I say to myself.

It’s the second act of our couples dance, and Miriam is cheating. For days she has edged me, ordering me not to cum or she will crop me, and for days I have kept myself from cumming.

This is agony for me. I love cumming, and have done so almost daily since I was sixteen and living with my mother.

And when I started exotic dancing, then lap dancing, then sex work, I’d cum at least once a day, and sometimes several times a day, except when I had my period, and sometimes even then.

I know I’m slightly unusual in that regard. Not all women are multi-orgasmic, but I certainly am. And I have developed a great appetite for it, and always enjoy it.

But now she’s denying it to me, and I want to rage against her. At times I do, but I’m always punished, and afterwards she always forbids me from cumming for even longer. So, the most I can do is to obey her as best as my bratty personality will let me, and beg her to allow me to cum whenever I’m permitted to beg.

But now, for tonight’s dance, she’s added something new. Just before we go onstage for our 40-minute couples dance, the BDSM version, she gives me a remote-controlled, egg vibrator, and orders me to put it in my vagina. I hesitate, because I know what she will do to me if I do.

But when she looks at me coldly, I melt, spread my legs, and insert the already lubed egg far up into my cunt, swallowing hard, and knowing this would be yet another test of my obedience.

Then I put on the rest of my costume, and prepare to start the dance. And just to prove her power over me, she turns the vibrator on just as we go onstage…

Now we are approaching the end of the second of the three, ten-minute acts. According to the script, which we loosely follow with variations for the audience and setting, this is the Temptation scene. She is the Serpent, and I am Eve, and she is corrupting me, tempting me, daring me to explore and enjoy my sexuality so that she can enslave me, and use me for her own ends.

Which is precisely what Miriam, dancing as the Serpent, is doing to me, De Muis, Eve. The worst part is that I know precisely what she is doing, and I’m powerless to prevent it.

For I adore her. She is the only person who has ever cared about me, cared for me. I live in her house, eat her food, wear the clothes she wants me to wear, work when and where she tells me, give her all of my earnings – and cum only when she allows me to.

I adore her, and I cannot help myself. I want to worship her, to please her. And what she wants from me is complete obedience. When I give it, immediately, and without thinking, she is kind, generous, and loving. When I rebel, or am slow to obey, her eyes narrow, her demeanor becomes menacing, and she punishes me. And the worst punishment is to know I have disappointed her, that she is sad because I made her sad. I hate that above anything.

And as time goes on, I find that more than anything, I want to please her, to see her smile, to make her cum when she wishes, to be what she wants me to be.

But it’s hard. I was just beginning to live a life I chose, to do the things I wished, to have the money to buy the things I wanted. And although I love the life she gives me, there are times when I struggle against it.

Today was one of those days. She is a cold, unforgiving perfectionist, especially when it comes to our dances. She wants not only that the steps be perfect, but that the dance affect the audience as strongly as she wishes, and leaves them feeling a certain way by the end. This requires acting skills as well as dancing skills. And while I can dance in my own way, and do it with emotion, I have no background or skill at acting, or in formal, structured dance.

As a result, she is not pleased with the reactions we have been getting from the audiences.

When I was stripping, the music and the audiences’ reactions were enough to carry me, and let me give myself to them. It was real, and they knew it, felt it, and responded to it.

But now, I’m trying to act, first as a virgin, then as a tempted woman, finally as a fallen woman. I understand it; I just don’t feel it the way I do exotic dancing.

And she is not pleased with me.

So, today she is cheating. She will force me to be tempted, she will force me to fall, she will force me to become the slut.

And she will do this with the egg she has planted in my cunt.

****

Following our first couples rehearsal, I felt as loved as I ever had in my life. I was lying with my head in her lap, and she was smoothing my hair, and smiling down at me. This was as close to heaven as I could imagine, especially as she had just given me a massive, earth-shattering orgasm, and I was floating on the after-effects.

“You’re very beautiful like this,” she says, continuing to stroke my hair.

I shook my head. “I’ve been called pretty, but I’m not beautiful. I know that.”

Miriam shook her head, “Not so, my little Mouse. When you are like this, when you have given me such a gift, when I can see you so peaceful, so happy, then you are beautiful, hein?”

I smiled up at her, and felt tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I turned my head and kissed her hand, “If I am beautiful, it’s because you make me feel so. You are so kind, so good to me. Thank you.”

Her smile widened, but I could see something…more…in her eyes, but I wasn’t sure what.

Finally, she said, “Come. Let us take you to bed.”

I was reluctant to move, but she pulled my hand. “Let me get my clothes…”

“And why would you need clothes?” she said, and arched an eyebrow at me.

I blushed and looked down, then followed her, holding her hand. She, of course, was still wearing her workout clothes, while I was naked except for my body piercings, but I followed her willingly as she led me down the stairs to the main level, and off to her bedroom, with its big, very pink and feminine bed.

“There’s a toilet there,” she pointed. I took the hint, and detoured, refreshing myself, combing my fingers through my hair, and rinsing my mouth out with cold water. I washed my face and hands, and used one of the washcloths to wipe myself so I didn’t smell quite as strongly as before, then opened the door and re-entered her bedroom.

She had drawn back the sheets, and was sitting with one leg on and one leg off the side of the bed, leaning up against the headboard. She patted the bed next to her and said, “Come here, little Mouse, and let me play with you again.”

I was struck all over again at how beautiful she was: tall, blonde, slender, with a regal face that was graceful and lovely. A true Germanic Valkyrie. If Wagner had wanted a model for his operas, he would have chosen her.

I walked over to her, my legs suddenly rubbery again, remembering how she had played my body like a musical instrument, finally bringing me to the point where I begged to be allowed to cum. And after prolonging my crushing desire, she had allowed it, and it had felt unbelievably liberating.

“Won’t you let me…love…you? May I pleasure you, please, Miriam?”

She smiled down at me as she gathered me into her arms, “There will be plenty of time for that, my Mouse. Right now, I want you to know how good I can make you feel. But call me Mistress, won’t you?”

I nodded, “If you wish, Miriam.”

“Mistress.”

“Yes, Mistress. Sorry.”

She smiled, and started once again to run her fingers over me, as she had before. But this time, she knew all my secret places. And she was in absolutely no hurry.

She played me at a very low and slow pace, catching the heat of my earlier orgasm which it still glowed like embers in my body, emphasizing it, drawing it forth like dew being drawn from the grass in the morning sun: slowly, imperceptibly, but with an inevitability that was enticing and irresistible.

After a time, I was unable to be still. I was rolling and stretching, moaning and gasping. And from time to time she would stop, almost as if she were taunting me, causing me to writhe with desire, and pant.

Finally, she lent down and started using her lips and her magic tongue on me. I knew, from my earlier passion, why she was such a highly-paid sexworker: she could read my body like an open book, and knew exactly where to touch me, and how, and for how long. And she drew it out, making it so much slower than I desired.

Finally, I could stand it no longer, and whispered to her, asking her to let me cum. “Not yet, my little Mouse; not yet.” And she continued to play with me. Later, when I couldn’t stand it, and needed her to go faster, go harder, I asked her again. She smiled again, shook her head, and said, “No…still no…little plaything. You haven’t yet learned how to beg.”

I asked her to teach me to beg, anything to get her to let me cum. She shook her head for a third time, smiled, and simply said, “No.”

Eventually I was writhing, and unable to lie still. My hands were clenching and opening, my legs were pushing wider and wider open, begging for her to touch my pussy, and my mouth was open and I was panting.

“Please,” I said, “please! Teach me how to beg, Mistress, I can’t stand not cumming. Please!”

She stopped, held my face, and said, “Do you really want to know how to beg, little Mouse?”

“I do, please teach me, I need to know, please!”

“Get down on your knees at my feet, and spread your legs.”

Quickly, I slid to the floor, and opened myself as she told me, kneeling, legs spread wide.

“Now turn your head up to me, and place your hands, palms up, on your thighs, waiting for my orders. This position is called Nadu. Say it.”

“Nadu. This is Nadu.”

“And when I say Nadu, what will you do, little Mouse?”

I stopped, unsure what she wanted me to say, and unable to think clearly, I was so desperate to climax. “Move to this position?” I offered.

“Exactly. And how long should it take you to get into this position, my little toy?”

“I should do it immediately?”

“Precisely. Will you do that, my little Mouse? Will you obey me when I order you?”

“You know I will.”

“Say yes, little Mouse.”

“Yes!”

She nodded. “Now, little Mouse, bend forward and kiss my feet.”

I paused, unsure. “Now, little Mouse.”

I immediately leaned forward and kissed her workout slippers, first one, then the other.

“Now keep your forehead on the ground. This is called ‘Obeisance.’ Say it.”

“Obeisance.”

“Very good. Repeat the names I’ve told you.”

“Nadu, I think.”

“Yes, you remember well.”

I felt a warm surge run through my body.

“And…obedience?”

“No. Try again.”

“Uh…obeisance?”

“Excellent. Now little Mouse, do you think you can learn one more?”

“Yes, Miriam.”

She was silent, and waited. “I mean, yes, Mistress!”

“Very good little Mouse, but try not to keep me waiting next time, yes?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Now you will learn ‘Slaver’s Kiss’. Say it.”

“Slaver’s Kiss.”

“Very good. Put your forehead down to the floor, lift your bottom in the air, spread your knees wide, and move your feet so they touch each other. Now put your arms around your head like this,” she moved my arms so my head was cupped in my palms, and my elbows were spread wide on either side of my head.

“What is this called, little Mouse?”

“Slaver’s Kiss.”

“And the second one?”

“Obeisance.”

“Excellent. And the first?”

“Nadu.”

“Very good. You shall have a reward.”

She started stroking my back, my sides, my knees, then gently massaged the cheeks of my uplifted ass, gradually kneading, and spreading my cheeks wide. Then she slowly traced the line from the crease of my ass, pausing to gently probe my dark star, then down until she was lightly touching my nether lips.

Gradually, she lightly tickled and massaged my pubis, split my labia, and traced my wetness from bottom to top. By now I was moaning, and drooling on the carpet, incapable of coherent thought, consumed by desire. Yet, if I moved so much as a millimeter from the proper position, the caresses would stop without comment, and she would wait until I found it again. It was as if I were locked tight into this one position.

Finally, finally, she was using two fingers to fuck my cunt while massaging my clit, but said, “You must not cum until I permit it, little Mouse. Say it.”

“I…uh…must not cum until…you permit it.”

“Mistress,” she corrected.

“Mistress.”

She proceeded to torture me, almost taunting me, daring me to cum. But I knew if I did, it would be a mistake, and I would regret it.

I was shuddering by now, twitching, and panting hard. “Please, Mistress, please, I have done everything you asked. I will do anything you ask. Please let me cum now, please!”

She ignored me, continuing to stroke, finger-fuck, and tease me for some time as I begged, listening as much to the tone of my voice as to the words. Then, finally she said, “Yes, little Mouse, you may cum now. I permit it.”

****

When my head stopped spinning, and while my body still tingled, Miriam gently pulled me up from my Slaver’s Kiss position, brought me onto the bed, and said, “Now, little Mouse, you may worship me. Give me an orgasm, my little slut, and do it quickly.”

I felt entirely spent, exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep. Yet, I had promised her I would do anything she wanted, so, although my arms and legs were heavy, and I was having trouble focusing, I started to love her, as I had loved women who were clients.

I kissed her on the mouth, and she passively allowed me to, letting me put my tongue in her mouth, but not responding in kind. I kissed her ears, and licked outside them, then moved down to her neck, then her breasts, circling the areolae, then sucking the nipples into my mouth. I was surprised she was being so passive, although I could tell her body was starting to respond to my touches. It pleased me that I did excite her.

I gradually worked my way down between her legs, and licked open her inner labia, tasting her, and slowly licking and slurping her kitty. Then I started truly worshiping her sex, lapping, sucking, kissing, nuzzling, and thrusting my tongue inside her.

And although she didn’t do anything to help, she was moving and shivering. “Harder, my little slut, and faster,” she whispered. I responded immediately, and her hips started to gyrate, her breath to come more quickly.

“Now!” she called, and pushed my face hard into her cunt, grinding herself against me.

And came. Her body shuddered, she cried out, and she held me tight against her.

Finally, she relaxed, then pulled my hair, indicating that she wanted me to move up next to her. I did so quickly, snuggling into her arm. “Pull the blanket over us, my little Mouse.” I did.

“You did well, Mouse. I am pleased.”

I felt an electric thrill run through me. She was pleased with me! I felt as loved as I had earlier, after our first love-making. Then I asked a question, “Why do you always call me Mouse? Why don’t you call me Nika?”

She drew back and frowned at me, and I trembled. “Who is Nika? You are my Mouse now, nothing more, hein? Mouse. Say it!”

I was shocked, and stuttered “I…I am, um, Mouse.”

She looked at me coldly. “Why do you hesitate. Say it!”

“I am Mouse.” I dropped my gaze.

She looked at me for what seemed a long time. “Better. Remember your name, yes? You are Mouse.”

“I…am Mouse.”

“Good. Now, you were good at pleasing me, but you will need to learn to be better. Next time I will teach you. You must take great pride and pleasure at worshiping your Mistress.” She looked down at me. “You want that, don’t you, my little playtoy?”

I looked up at her with eager eyes, hoping to regain her favor. “Yes, Mistress, very much!”

“Good girl. My good little playtoy, my Mouse.” And she started stroking my hair again. I sighed and was content.

****

It was a Monday, and we were both booked off for two evenings off from the Club. I stayed with Mistress the whole time. She only allowed me to go home again on Wednesday morning. She said we need to work on the dances, and we needed to become intimate with each other, as it was necessary for the story behind the dance.

So, we spent our time chatting together, laughing together, and cooking and eating together. She explored my past life, my family, and was very supportive, and I truly appreciated that she took such an interest in me. I was flattered, and also felt more loved and understood than I ever had before.

We also worked – a lot – on rehearsing the dances, blocking the shorter two of the four, and walking through them. We didn’t bring them to their sexual conclusions just yet. That would come later. But we got the positioning and the timing right.

The times when we weren’t working or cooking, we spent in bed. And all of this time, except for when we were rehearsing, I was naked, at Mistress’ request. Her command, really.

She showed me several additional begging positions I should learn. These were ways, she said, that would allow me to beg properly, then had me use them, several of them, sometimes repeatedly, before she brought me to orgasm.

And she gave me plenty of reasons to beg, because although we spent a great deal of time in bed, and although she continued to teach me how to please her, and bring her to orgasm, she found more and more reasons why I should not. Among other things, she said I spent too much time thinking about sex, and not enough time thinking about dancing.

Then, on the afternoon of the second day, she introduced the crop.

This was a riding crop, such as riders use on their horses. It can be used either with the tip, which is a flap of leather that can sting if slapped against your flesh. Or the shaft of the stick can be used as a cane, for example, on someone’s bum. I later learned that it can leave painful, red welts that last for several days.

She said I would learn the dance steps more quickly if I had greater motivation. When I asked why I needed more motivation than my wish to earn more money, and my burning desire to please her, she just looked at me, smiled, and said she would not use the crop on me unless, and until, I asked her to. She even put it away in the closet, locking it away, safe, she said.

At the end of the two days, I was completely enchanted by her, and I do mean in the fairytale way. She had cast a spell on me. I found her irresistible, and found it harder and harder to say no to anything she wanted. I even agreed not to cum when I was at home by myself. She made me promise, and told me she would know if I broke my promise. And I believed her, so I stopped masturbating at home, before I went to sleep, although I found it torture.

****

I thought I had found at loophole at work. Wednesday, when I came offstage, I decided to masturbate in the toilet at the Club.

I was still naked, having just come offstage from my first dance, and, like most of us, went immediately to the toilet. But while almost all of us needed to pee after being onstage, I also needed to cum.

I had found that dancing naked in front of a crowd of men – and some women – turned me on in a way I had never expected. As a result, when I got off stage, I was usually pretty horny, and would often shut myself in a stall, and masturbate to bring myself to orgasm. And when you added the burning desire that Miriam had lit within me, I couldn’t help myself once I’d decided it would be all right.

But it didn’t turn out the way I expected. I was seated on the toilet, legs wide apart, right hand rubbing my clit, with two fingers from my left hand in my cunt, finger-fucking myself. My head was tilted back, and my eyes were closed, and I was getting awfully close to cumming…

“Don’t cum yet, slut,” said a soft voice I knew so well. I jerked my head up and my eyes open, shocked to find myself facing Miriam’s panties. Her wet panties. Her left hand grabbed my right wrist, and pulled it away from my clit. She stepped forward so that her left leg blocked my right hand, keeping it away from my pussy. Meanwhile, her right leg moved in close to my left arm, preventing me from removing my left hand from my cunt. She dug the fingers of her right hand in my hair and pulled my head up so I was looking her in the eyes.

“Don’t worry,” she went on. “I’ll let you cum…right after you make me cum.” She slid her right hand down her front, and slowly pushed her panties down so my mouth was centimeters away from her cunt. I could smell her, and it was clear that she was really turned – by me, I wondered?

“And keep finger-fucking yourself, my little Mouse. Just don’t cum until I give you permission. Do I make myself clear?” She smiled down at me, and I shivered inside.

I nodded, then leaned forward, extended my tongue, and started to lick…

She made no attempt to be silent, and I’m sure the other girls knew exactly what was happening. I should have realized that I couldn’t keep Miriam from knowing what I was doing.

When she was finished cumming, she put her hand around my chin, and forced me to look up at her.

“You thought it would be okay to have your orgasm here, didn’t you? You thought I wouldn’t know.

“But you need to understand: your body belongs to me now, hein? I will decide when and whether you can cum, not you.

“So, little Mouse, you will cum now, here, while I watch, and you will make sure everyone hears you when you cum. And then you will not cum again until I give you permission. And that will not be for at least a week, maybe more. Maybe much more. Do you understand me, Muis?”

Her eyes blazed down at me, and her face wore that cold frown that turned my insides to jelly. It was all I could do to nod.

“Then what are you waiting for? Cum! Cum now!”

I looked down, ashamed, and reached down to massage my clit. But it took a long time for me to cum with her frowning down at me.

And I knew she had told me a truth I had not wanted to accept: she owned me now, whether I liked it or not.

****

But in the days that followed, she made it more and more difficult for me to earn the right to cum. It was a week before she allowed me to cum again. In the meantime, she required me to sleep with her at her house every night, and every night she would bring me to agonizing heights of passion…and then stop.

I grew more and more frustrated. She excited me like no one ever had before. She made me horny, eager for sex at any and every time of day, sometimes waking me in the middle of the night by stroking me, and arousing an almost painful, burning desire, then leaving me unfulfilled, and unable to return to sleep while she slept.

She transformed me from being a common slut, who thought sex was fun and pleasurable, into a needy, wanton, begging slut, who thought about sex all the time, and burned when I was not allowed to reach its pinnacle.

By the middle of the next week, when we were rehearsing, there came a time when she was being cold with me for not being perfect in the longer, BDSM version of our dance. The second and third acts involved her seducing me, and because I was so horny all the time, I was continually distracted, and did not perform with the perfection she required.

Worse, when she was seducing me in the dance, I was reacting as myself, as my body required me, not as the character, and this did not please her.

We took a break, and I screwed up my courage to say something. I told her that my sexual frustration was interfering with my performance, and begged her to allow me to cum before we started rehearsing again.

I tried desperately to think of something I could do to please her, to entice her to let me reach climax, when I thought of the crop.

I asked if she would use the crop on me, that it would help me learn how to please her more quickly. She refused. I kept asking and she kept refusing until finally, reluctantly, she brought it out and handed it to me, and asked, “If this what you want, little Mouse? Do you think you will listen to the crop when you fail to listen to me?”

I looked at it carefully, turning it over in my hands. I felt the soft tip, and tapped it against my hand. “Try it against your thigh,” she said, so I did. It stung. Not badly, but I definitely felt it.

I ran my hand over the shaft of the stick. It was wrapped in leather, and felt very sensuous.

“Let me show you,” she said. “Step your right leg forward, and turn your foot out.”

Then she struck me with the shaft on the inside of my thigh, high up. Not, I was to learn later on, as hard as she could, but hard enough to leave a clear, red mark.

A shock ran through my body. It hurt! But to my shock I also found it exciting.

She started to put it away again. I stopped her and asked if she really thought it would help me learn to dance more quickly.

Absolutely, she said.

And will it help me learn how to please you better? I asked.

Yes, she said, then smiled and kissed me.

So, I begged her to keep the crop, and for us to use it. She was reluctant, but eventually, I got my way.

She was right. I did learn the dance steps much more quickly after that.

And it taught me how to manage my feelings better. If I did, I was rewarded with smiles and caresses. If I didn’t, the crop.

Miriam encouraged me to handle it, to fondle it, to become attached to it. I loved the smell of the leather, and the sensuousness of it.

One day, before our rehearsal started, she found me rubbing its length back and forth between my legs, against my cunt, almost like I was fucking myself with it. She said that some people used it in sex, and would I like her to show me?

I would.

She stripped me naked, had me bend over, brace myself with my hands on the sofa, arch my back, and open my legs. Don’t move, she said, then struck me a stinging slap on my pussy. I jumped, shocked. Yet, found I was incredibly excited.

“You moved,” she said. “Bend over again.”

And when I did, she told me to brace myself this time, and not move. Then she gave me a series of short, sharp, slaps on the pussy, between my ass cheeks, on the inside of my thighs, and on my buttocks. But she concentrated on my pussy.

When she stopped, I was moaning. She put down the crop, cradled me in her arms, pushed me onto the sofa, and without any begging or prompting on my part, brought me to a massive, incredibly satisfying climax.

After that, I started begging her to use the crop on me during sex, and I always had tremendously intense orgasms when she did.

I loved it.

****

My dancing improved very rapidly after that.

I developed a love-hate relationship with the crop. It hurt when it marked me or stung me, and I tried to avoid it when we were rehearsing. But in bed, I found I was yearning for its caress almost as much as for Mistress’ lips and tongue. I was thoroughly confused about what I wanted. It all seemed muddled up inside my head, so I let Mistress guide me in all things.

When we finished the rehearsals, I was technically very good, largely due to her cold, unforgiving perfectionism. She even made love to me after our final rehearsal, and allowed me to cum after I worshiped her and brought her to orgasm. She said it was my reward for all of my hard work, and that she would reward me again when our dance was a success onstage.

I was eager to get started.

But the stage shows were not as successful as she wanted. I was too wooden, she said. I was concentrating on the dance steps, and not exhibiting the passion we needed to woo the audiences. As a result, they were not responding the way she had hoped, and she was not pleased.

I tried, but when I was offstage, I was horny and preoccupied. Yet, when I was onstage, I was trying so hard to please her by getting the dance right that I did not feel the emotion.

And that is when she decided to cheat by planting her vibrator-egg in my cunt.

****

We have finished the first act, and are resting when Mistress moves over and sits next to me. “You are going to climax at the end of the second act, after I seduce you,” she says. “You have my permission to cum then.”

I look up, shocked, at her. “You want me to cum in front of all those people?” I ask, “In public?”

She looks at me coldly. “Yes. I suspect it’s the only way you will show the proper emotions. So, yes, you will cum, and you will cum when I tell you. Do you understand?”

I drop my eyes, mortified. I had cum in public once before, during my second lap dance, and I had been mortified then, even though my client was thrilled. And I had often cum after being onstage, when the audience had brought me to that point where I ached to cum. But I had cum afterwards, privately, in the toilet. Not on the dance floor. Not in public. I couldn’t. I couldn’t!

But I knew I would, because She wanted me to.

“So, you understand little Mouse?”

I nodded. She grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her. “Say it.”

“I will cum when you tell me.” But I was blushing deeply and dropped my eyes as soon as she let go of me.

“Good. Now get ready.”

The story of the second act is of the Serpent seducing Eve with the apple.

During the first act, the Serpent had first confronted me, then started tempting me, and gradually removed more and more of my clothes.

During the first act, Miriam had switched on the egg when she wanted me to respond to her seduction, and switched it off when I was supposed to resist. It seemed to be working because the audience was more alive than any audience had been before.

Now, at the start of the second act, I was down to a wearing only a white bra and a thong. The thong had been carefully prepared beforehand so that it would come apart when pulled.

Miriam slithers around me, touching me in my secret places, all the while turning my egg on and off at strategic moments. She is getting me more and more excited – both as a character, and in real life.

Then the Serpent pushes me onto a chair in the center of the stage, and ties my arms to the chair with red, silk scarves. She continues to touch and arouse me, and now the vibrator is on all the time, but at a low level.

Next, the Serpent undoes the front clasp of my bra, and pulls it away from me in triumph, tossing it across the stage and revealing my tits to the audience. Simultaneously, Miriam increases the speed of the vibrator, and I start to writhe and moan. And it is only partly acting.

Miriam dances close to me, and hisses, “Not yet!”

She continues to slither around me, touching me, whispering the vile, filthy things she’s going to do to me into my ears, and arousing me ever more – in and out of character.

Finally, she gets down in front of me, kneeling up tall, and picks up an apple that has been hidden behind one of the chair legs, as if making it appear out of nothing.

“Would you like to try this? It will give you a knowledge of your feelings beyond anything you have ever known. Try it, my sweet thing…”

She holds the apple up to my mouth, and, after pausing, torn, for a long moment, I lean forward and take a bite, a crunch that the silent audience hears very plainly.

The Serpent rips the thong off of me in triumph.

And Miriam ratchets the vibrator up to its highest setting, turns to me, and says “Now!”

Then the Serpent stands, draws herself up to her full height, exalting in her triumph. She turns towards the audience, looking up at the sky, arching her back, and holding the thong and the bitten apple high in the air.

And even though I feel exposed in a way stripping never made me feel, and even though I feel humiliated, and even though I know everyone in the audience will realize what is happening…

I cum. Hard.

And I don’t just cum with cries and moans, I squirt, which I hardly ever do except when I am exceptionally excited. And my girl-cum flows from between my legs, onto the chair, and drips onto the stage.

The audience is silent, riveted, barely breathing.

Then the blackout descends with a crash to end to the second act, and the cheering begins.

And as I bow my head in darkness, bound and drained, I feel, perhaps, as Eve must have felt when the Serpent worked its will on her.

Naked.

Ashamed.

And Enslaved.