Текст книги "Her Web Master"
Автор книги: Normandie Alleman
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
One Friday I woke up to this message in my inbox:
Hungry for the next task? You are my fucking toy to play with today, aren’t you?
You will go to the farthest room away from your bedroom as you can. Before you start you will need the two skipping ropes tied to the headboard. I want you completely undressed, and once in the other room you will tape your ankles tightly together. Now cock in that cunt and vibe on your clit. You will tape your thighs together just above the knees and also just below your hips. Now, taped and tortured, you will hobble into the bedroom where your pleasure awaits you.
Up on the bed, lie back, li’l bitch, and get comfortable. You have one chance to position that cock wherever you like and set the desired speed and pattern settings on that vibe. Then take the handles of the skipping rope in your hands and start winding them down around your wrists. Make those fucking arms stretch and fucking strain.
Do you understand?
You will not move from that position for thirty minutes, and you can do as you wish with your cunt to make it come. I know you’re a greedy little whore and you’ll do everything in your power to gain that sweet release. Come at will and as often as you can, but if you don’t succeed after the thirty minutes the session is over and there will be no coming. Understood? Agreed?
After your session the tape will remain in place. Slip on your wristbands and clip on the attached clothespins, then type a two-hundred word report for me with your reactions to this task.
This is what you wanted, this is what you needed, this is what you’re getting.
Be good for Sir.
MC
I was excited to try it, but once I did, everything seemed to go wrong. Afterward, I told MC about it:
Sir,
It was very difficult to walk with the tape on my ankles and legs. These clothespins hurt by the way! Um, I walked on my toes to my bedroom and it helped. It felt kinda sexy to be bound that way, but once I got to the bedroom, I had trouble getting my vibe situated to do anything of interest with my legs taped that close together. I put it on a setting I thought would work, and I wrapped my hands up in the skipping ropes.
For the first five minutes I enjoyed it. I kinda tried to fuck the vibe and tried to feel the vibration on my clit (though that was difficult because my legs were squished together too much). I writhed around on the bed trying to fuck myself tied down all naked, and that was hot. I felt like such a little slut, a total wanton whore.
But after a while I realized there was no way I was gonna be able to cum like that so I got bored. Totally bored. I took my rope off one hand to see if changing the setting would help, but it didn’t (I know I wasn’t supposed to do that. I know, I know. I was very bad). But it just wasn’t working. It was only annoying me so I quit. So what started out as a sexy task turned bad with me being a disobedient girl. I’m sorry I was naughty on this task, sir. You know that’s not like me.
~Sophie
I chewed on a fingernail, certain that my disobedience would earn me a punishment session. So I was surprised when he messaged me back, saying:
Sophie,
I actually don’t mind that you failed this one, and you were truthful about it. These are the types of situations that need to be discussed. If I thought you were enjoying the tasks, but you weren’t and didn’t tell me, I would keep giving you more of the same type and we’d be traveling down a very slippery slope into total boredom and frustration.
I wish everything I designed and sent would work as I see it in my mind’s eye, but each individual is different and failure does push my imagination as well.
All tasks cannot be perfect and we are at some disadvantage using cyber. However, you will still become a delicious little sub-slut and we’ll find new things that can send you through the roof.
Now that you have completed that task you will take a pair of your panties and stuff them deep up inside that soaking wet fuckhole that belongs to me. You will wear them in that fuckhole for the rest of the evening right up until it’s time to play later tonight.
Check your messages here for updates on when I can come out to abuse you.
Be good for Sir.
MC
Since he responded so quickly I deduced he must be online so I opened our chat window and typed:
Sophie: Yes, sir. I will take my pink and white striped ones that I had on earlier and shove them deep inside of me. They are so sexy and will feel good inside Sir’s fuckhole. It’s so wet and swollen, aching for you. Wanting, wanting, wanting…
MC: Good girl. You need that cunt filled. Play with those panties inside that sweet hole. Grip them, suck them, clench them, soak them with your fuck juice. Make that cunt need, make it pulse inside, make those panties drink up all your juices.
I inserted the panties and moved on with my day, which involved a lot of chores around the house and a trip to the store. During all that I had to walk a lot, so I really felt those panties lodge in my cooch. They filled me completely, and I was aware of them every second. My muscles squeezed at them so tightly.
Once I got home I went to the bathroom, but when I stood up, I realized that part of the panties must have fallen down into the toilet water. Eww! I had to remove the rest from my vagina. Now they were partly soaked with toilet water and partly soaked with pussy juice.
I would be talking to MC later that night, but I wanted to connect with him anyway and tell him how things were going.
Sophie: I was wearing those panties inside me for hours, and when I pulled them out I was so surprised that they were sopping wet! Completely soaked. I’m liking this task.
To which he immediately responded:
MC: Get those cum-soaked panties back in that greedy fuckhole now. You were never given permission to take them out, were you? You will pay this time for your lack of compliance.
Holy crap.
Sophie: No! You don’t understand! Part of them dropped out into the toilet when I went to go pee. I had to take them out. They were soaking wet with pee and toilet water. YUCK! Surely you understand I had to pull the rest of the panties out! I couldn’t put that toilet stuff back in my vag for sanitary reasons. Plus I just got a new pair and put them in my cunt. I still have that pair in right now. Promise!
After he didn’t respond for ten minutes, I continued digging my grave.
Sophie: It’s kinda a funny story. I giggled when it happened. But I know how you like to punish me so I understand if you must…
MC: Do you think it’s funny to disobey?
Our play that night was divine. He started it with a serious punishment session for my cunt with lots of hard fucking, and I was raw and aching from it. My breasts were sore and marked with red stripes from the tape I’d ripped from them. My muscles ached in my arms and legs as well from the exertion I’d put forth as he put me through my paces.
Sophie,
It pleases me tremendously that you have these aches and pains. The marks always serve as a reminder of past play and can conjure up some lustful memories.
So many more aches and pains to deliver. So many more marks to leave behind. You are shaping into a beautiful plaything and will continue to grow. The more we play, the more understanding we gain, the deeper the training sinks in. That delivers results.
Stay a good girl.
MC
But the longer we played online, the more frustrated I became. My brain knew I was getting exactly what I signed up for, but my body and my heart had begun to want more, and the two sides were growing further and further apart each day. I debated whether or not to talk with MC about it. On one hand I didn’t want to rock the boat and upset him, but on the other I was becoming increasingly unhappy with the status quo.
In many ways I was lonely. I’d even begun to consider asking Shelby or Jackie to set me up on a real live date with someone local, even though that wasn’t really what I wanted. I wanted more from MC. Finally one day, I gave in to my emotions and emailed him about it.
Dear Sir,
I am beginning to think that cyber is not fair. While on one hand I do like to hear about how hard your raging, chiseled hard cock is (I really do!), at the same time it makes me frustrated because I would really like a real one.
And the haunting thing—I hear your voice replayed in my head and think about you all the time, and I’m not sure how that is good. How can that possibly be good?
~Sophie
The minute I hit SEND, I wished I hadn’t. I sounded more like a petulant child than a grown woman, one who knowingly signed up for a sexual BDSM boot camp of sorts with absolutely no strings attached whatsoever. I was behaving selfishly and immaturely. Here I was, well into my training, and I wanted to change the rules. I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted him to do, but more and more the cyber relationship didn’t fulfill me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The rest of the morning I tried to read, but I was too distracted checking my inbox to get very far. Finally I shut down the computer and took Felix for a walk as a distraction. I even went and picked up my favorite lunch to stay out of the house longer, but when I got back I received his reply.
Sophie,
My voice is real, my passion and lust for you is real. The memories are real. Memories are the single most dearest part of my very soul. My memories are mine and belong to no one else; they can’t be shaped, altered, ever be shared completely or taken away. I cling to them like precious gems hidden away, buried in darkness until I choose to sit and peruse them in my mind’s eye whenever I want. I can hold them, nurture and cherish them, and they will never disappear or betray me. They can conjure up a tremendous emotion of pure joy and pure sorrow, and add immeasurable value to my existence. I love experiencing life, if for no other reason but to look forward to collecting memories.
MC
Reading his words, my throat closed, and I swallowed hard. This was a different side of my Dom—a sensitive side. I wanted to reach out and touch him all the more, but instead I had to rely on our usual form of communication.
Dear Sir,
That was extraordinarily beautiful. It actually brought tears to my eyes, it was so lovely. You bring a certain dignity and a treasured quality to these memories with your words that I wouldn’t have thought to attribute to them.
You must possess a rich internal life. I myself am more externally focused, and I love experiencing life if for no other reason than to see how different people are, and how interesting life is. People fascinate me. Especially quirky, talented, or eccentric ones. Oh, and the weather. I’m fascinated by weather.
~Sophie
Sophie,
I’m touched that I “moved” you. I rarely share this side of myself because most people can’t internalize how powerful memories are, and it goes unappreciated.
A rich internal life. That may be. I think of myself more as quietly confident. I am very comfortable in my own skin. I like where I’ve been, where I am now, and where I’m going. I work hard at keeping things very simple in my life… I never surround myself with decadence or lavish goods, although I appreciate quality. I don’t give a damn about “keepin’ up with the Joneses,” nor do I care if the Joneses believe I’m behind in the race.
I hate small talk, and boring individuals who only want to talk about themselves. I am fascinated by people from all walks of life, all creeds, colors, and races and thoroughly enjoy exploring their family background and culture.
I do not dwell on my memories as that would be counterproductive, but rather I keep them in my pocket, readily available for “me time.”
We might be surprised at how much common ground we share based on working with children. I spend a good amount of time mentoring young people in my area in the realm of music. Children are very special, and they need our nurturing, guidance, and love. I’m a huge advocate of helping them build their own library of memories.
I’ve gone on way too long a tangent, and am now becoming one of those people I hate by talking too much about myself. I fear, perhaps, becoming too personal to keep my edge as a Dom.
Okay, the secrets out… I’m a person too.
Switching gears, what’s this about the weather? Also, I truly hope you are enjoying your training and its impact is having a positive influence.
Stay a good girl.
MC
Sir,
About the weather—I’m just fascinated by it. I love to watch those shows on cable, like Nature Unleashed and Wild and Wicked Weather. I hate that it harms people, but I’m obsessed with watching the extreme power of nature and what it can do.
I’m glad that you said that about memories, because not only was it beautiful, but it also gave me a new perspective. I like the idea of spending more time and energy cultivating my memories and enriching my internal life. See? There you go, making me grow in a whole new area. You’re good, you know that?
I’m with you on the Joneses. I was raised to be obsessed with what people think, where people judge you by how much you have or who you are, but I subscribe to that way of thinking less and less all the time. None of what you’ve told me affects how you are as a Dom to me, the edge you have. Because when you start with all that mean stuff—believe me—my mind forgets everything else! I am just transported.
Not gonna lie. I do love the training.
~Sophie
Sophie,
You asking those questions made me think it’s time for me to check in on your thoughts and feelings as to how the training is going. What are some of the positives you’re taking from this experience? The negatives?
Do tell.
MC
Hmm. I thought long and hard about how to answer these questions. I wanted to be honest and transparent, but I didn’t want to sound like a complainer. I decided on this:
Sir,
Some of the positives are that I am learning about myself, my likes and dislikes. Also, I am exploring my sexuality in an empowered way. When I was younger I was somewhat shy, sexually. It was important to me to be a good girl, to do what was expected of me. So this experience permits me to express my true wants and desires, and I’m becoming comfortable with that—it’s an incredible feeling.
Another positive is that I just enjoy the experiences. Especially the phone sessions, because I like hearing your voice. That makes it more “real,” more meaningful, and less solo. After the sexless marriage I had for years, I’ve had it with solo playing. Blech. I realize now that I am a passionate woman who is ready for a real, live man. (The biggest negative about cyber play. lol.)
But I am reticent to discuss the negatives. I don’t want to spoil the good…
~Sophie
Sophie,
Probably a wise choice, not discussing the negatives and concentrating solely on the positives. As long as you are learning and exposing yourself to new and refreshing concepts, it will stay a healthy experience. My only hope is that you grow and find the true sense of freedom that allows yourself to be taken with lust and passion into a whole new realm of your sexuality.
MC
I sat back and reread his message. Did he just want to ignore the negative I did mention? The big, fat, glaring one that had been bugging me so much recently. I wanted a live man. A real one who could put his arms around me, hold me at the end of a bad day, kiss me goodbye on his way to work…
Hitting reply, I typed: Oh dear. I was going to tell you that we could talk about the negatives, but that I would rather do that over chat sometime. They are not really about training itself, more about how the training is affecting my life.
Then I pressed the backspace key and deleted it. If I turned into too much of a whiner I might ruin things with him altogether. But I was starting to truly crave a real life experience, and I wondered how to find someone who was willing to give me that.
The biggest problem was that just anyone wouldn’t do. As crazy as I knew it was—I wanted MC. With a sigh, I closed the computer, as a voice in the back of my head reminded me I couldn’t continue the way things were.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
As summer wore on, MC’s training continued to be a mainstay of my life, and some tasks went over better than others. Gone were the days when everything he did made my heart race. As I’d gotten used to him, I learned that I wasn’t compatible with all of his training ideas. But I had to hand it to him, he was nothing if not creative with his use of common household items for sexual purposes.
But even as I praised MC for his innovative designs and creative ideas, I told him, again and again, how much I’d prefer fucking a real man. Maybe I sounded like a broken record, but I hoped one day he would hear me. I guess I wanted him to offer to meet me in real life. I doubted he ever would, but I was starting to be afraid that was the only thing that would truly satisfy me. The idea of asking him outright scared me. I didn’t think I could take the rejection if he said no.
Was it crazy to be in love with a man I’d never seen? A man I knew almost nothing about? I thought so, but it had happened to me. It felt like I’d become addicted to MC. And like building up a tolerance for a drug, I needed more and more from him to get the same high.
It seemed I wasn’t the only one thinking about reevaluating training, because MC sent me this:
TRAINING REVISITED
I want you to review your training to this point in time.
1.) What have you learned so far?
2.) What part of training do you crave the most?
3.) Do you feel you need the pain as part of training, and why?
4.) Do you relish being verbally abused, and why?
5.) How much does bondage play a part in your need to be trained, and why?
6.) Where do orgasms rank in the training process, and why?
7.) How important is being a plaything, a trinket to be used, and why?
You have twenty-four hours to complete this task or face a full punishment session.
Agreed?
MC
I agreed and started answering his questions right away. I told him I’d learned how to be a good plaything and how to obey, even though it doesn’t come easily to me. I told him I’d learned where pain fits in for me, which was one of the most important things I’d wanted to find out. I’d discovered that pain is an important adjunct to the control as well as the pleasure. For me, it amps up the intensity in both those areas, but I didn’t enjoy the pain for pain's sake. But by itself, the main importance for pain was when it was used as a punishment to remind me who is in charge.
The rest of my answers talked about how much I craved tasks that required me to obey, and how much I needed having someone lead me and control me. I relished being verbally abused because it draws me in with how forbidden it is, and it’s also objectifying, which is a huge turn on for me.
Psychologically, I loved the helplessness of bondage, but I also loved the concept that someone else was doing something to you, so you could be the receiver, in some ways the passive partner… that pushed lots of my hot buttons, but unfortunately, the most enticing aspects of bondage were unavailable. That was some of why I felt the benefits of my training were limited.
As for orgasms? Hell yeah, I wanted orgasms. That was an essential part of the training for me, because in my mind, BDSM was about sex. But I wanted a partner to have an orgasm with. That seemed like a good goal.
One night after steaming up the phone lines with a sexy play session, I mustered up my courage to begin the conversation I knew we needed to have. “Have you ever done a live session?”
“Of course.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“Do you do them often?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Right now because I don’t have a local sub.”
“Oh.” I wanted to ask him if he would do a live session with me, but I was petrified he’d say no.
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know.” I stalled, embarrassed to admit how strong my need for a real man had gotten. “Sometimes I want to try this stuff out with a real person, not just a voice on the other end of the phone. Okay, not sometimes. All the time.” I heard the emotion creeping into my voice, but I prayed he didn’t.
“We could always do a cam session…”
I exhaled loudly and brushed aside a tear. “It’s not the same. There’s something missing. The touch of another person. I miss feeling the weight of a man on top of me, the whole ‘real life’ experience.”
“I understand,” he said, but I wasn’t at all sure he did.