Shame and red cheeks

Beet red, I tried to spin away from her. “Bonnie,
please…” But her hand slid around my hips and forced itself
between my thighs to firmly encase my crotch and again lift me an
inch or two off the floor. And this time her voice had an edge
to it. “Tell Jeannie what you are to me,” she said again. “And
don’t make me tell you a third time.”
My voice quivering with embarrassment, I said quietly, “I’m
your playtoy.”
“My LITTLE playtoy. Right?”
I nodded, looking at the floor. “Yes. Your little playtoy.”
Bonnie chuckled and turned to face her friend. “See? Even
he knows what he is. And he loves every minute of it. Don’t
you, Baby Buns.”
Redfaced with shame, I nodded humbly.

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