I love erotic stories. Context is a real turn on for me: the build up before the sex scene. Above all, I fancy situation where women are dominated. There is a thin line between domination and rape, and even though I like the first kind, I despite the latter. Even if the female character is reluctant, in the end she must like what her man tell her to do and do to her.
The first time I read kinkyslut – I know, there is a lack of imagination in this pseudonym – I was hooked; maybe because of the few personal lines at the beginning, even if it was probably false. She described herself as a strong and independent woman: always the dominant one in her relationships. She might be ashamed of it but the truth was her dream of being totally dominated. And her stories were always about her fantasy. Her stories were the only one I read with the woman point of view. The style was impeccable, without contest better than mine.
After a while, I believed I had learnt what submissive woman wanted, and I wanted to try this kind of symbiotic relationship in my life. But I could not. I was on my last year of study and I could not afford a personal scandal, jeopardizing my entire career. I had a lot on my mind with my exams and my search for an internship. Most of all, I was afraid to freak out the girl.
I did what I had to do: I force myself to move on and forget this fantasy. I dated a little, without any thrill on my part, and by the end of the year I was resigned to satisfy myself. Most of the time when my right hand was down on business I was picturing either my boss or a coworker on the firm I was working for as an intern. Claire and Jennifer were the perfect examples of successful workaholic women: both gorgeous, always impeccable, self-confident.
One day, my boss assigned me to find another intern. I had to select resumes and show them to Jennifer. When I showed my selection to Jennifer, she was happy with it. The day after that, when she arrived at work and walked in our shared office, before even saying me good morning, she slammed the stack of resumes I selected on my desk and asked me: “if you received an email from [email protected] with my resume as an attachment file, would you select it?”. I was taken aback and did not know what to answer. It appeared she did not expect any; she just went to her desk and began to work. I followed her lead and took the resumes that were on my desk and checked the e-mail from each application.
You have to understand, it had been for nearly a year since I tried to restrain my domination fetish. This is why at that time, when Jennifer talked about kinkyslut it did not ring any bell in my mind. But at least I had an impression of déjà-vu. For a few days, I had been thinking about this particular morning, wondering where did this impression came from. When I pinpointed the email address, it was not because of the stories I used to read but because of Jennifer professional behavior. For her to say at work something like kinkyslut, it was… unexpected.
One day, as I was browsing the “newest page” of erotic stories, I came across the pseudonym kinkyslut: everything came back to me. Useless to say, my heart was pounding: did I cross pass with my female author? Was she a fan? Or was it just a coincidence? Two out of the three outcome possible meant she had a submissive personality. This was huge for me. First, it triggered back my fetish but I could also try to make it happen. If Jessica was kinkyslut, or at least read this author, it would also mean I was not a freak. I always assumed people into domination or submission were fucked up in some ways, but knowing Jessica I knew it was not her case.
I had to take my chance and try something. Jessica happened to be a drop dead beautiful ginger with a curvy body and definitely in shape. This evening, before going to bed, I made my first move and create a profile on the website where kinkyslut published her stories. I sent one private message to her: I know who you are. I figured it could be enough to raise her attention and if not, I could try to find something else.
The day after, when I checked my profile, I had a message: Prove it.
I was surprised to get a answer this fast. Hell, I was surprised to even get an answer!
I came up with my come back only when I reached my office. Without thinking, I send it via my smartphone with Jessica next to me: What’s in it for me?
Seconds later, Jessica’s phone rang. My heart jumped: there were too many coincidences in this story. She read what I supposed to be my message and bite her lower lips. When she began to type her answer, I knew I would definitely know is she was indeed kinkyslut or not. Foolish me! If I received her message with her next to me, she would know who I am, and I was not ready yet! As fast and discreetly as I could, I took my phone and disabled the ring. By the time I did it, I had received a message: you’ll get a dare from me.
I had not expected to get this far, but at this point I knew I really had a chance. For the rest of the day, I could not think of something else than the body of the incredible woman sitting next to me. I had dreamed about spending a night with her, or even stumble upon a hot video or picture of her. But at this point, dreams had become hopes, and not unrealistic ones.
It took me the rest of the working week to figure out what I would do to prove her I knew her identity, and what I wanted as a dare. On the Friday, I did some little shopping online and paid the one day delivery. The Saturday, I received my package and made sure everything was perfect. The Sunday, I went to my office. Of course, it should have been closed but on the Friday I made sure to be able to get access to the building through the back door with a little tape. It was indeed an unnecessary risk, but worth the thrill. I put my gift to my coworker with a note on her desk and leave.
On the Monday morning, I made sure to run into Jessica at the front door of the building. I did not want her to suspect me, just in case I went too far. We took the elevator together and I let her open the door of our office. Before entering, she froze. I looked over her shoulder and said with my best genuine wondering voice:
- Where you expecting a package?
- No, I have no idea what this is.
While I sat at my desk, I looked at her reading the note I let on the package. She flushed as she was reading the words “Dear kinkyslut, dare: wear this today.” Then she left for the front office, to return the package that was not meant for her. When she came back, her face was as red as her hair and I knew she went to the toilet to “wear this”. You might have guessed what this is, but for not any more confusion, let me tell you: a remote control vibrating egg. Needless to say, I had the remote control.
I waited half an hour, for every worker to be in the office, before turning on the egg. This sex toy was the best quality on the market: I was able to choose the intensity of the vibrations, and the toy was designed to stimulate the inner part of a woman as well as her clitoris.
When I turned on the toy, on the lowest setting, Jennifer was talking to some guy. He was obviously trying to flirt, and she was… unimpressed. But, “suddenly”, she gasp for hair and her eyes widened. As for me, knowing what was happening, I got the hardest boner in a second. At work. Without perspective of release. By my fault. Even if it was frustrating, it was also… enjoyable.
I wanted to test her reaction and sensitivity at first. So I discreetly watch her react to all five level of intensity.
During the first level, as she was talking to “the guy”, almost nothing changed. It was clearer that he was wasting her time (and his) but apart from this – and the looks she was giving away to spot the culprit – she was still the same.
As “the guy” left, I increased to level 2. She let escape a soft moan of both surprise and pleasure at first but after that she was still able to appear almost normal. Under my gaze, I saw her breathing become heavier. From my desk I was able to see her chest moving, and her nipples might had been harder – or it was just a shadow on her shirt. I did not want her to guess her tormentor was me so I waited more or less 10 minutes before increasing to level 3. I could have done it sooner, but I had been mesmerized by a slight back and forth movement of her hips. She was enjoying her humiliation, and was trying to increase her pleasure.
- Oh my gooood…, moaned Jennifer when she reached level 3.
- What happened? I asked, hoping to look concerned.
- N… Nothing. I re… realized I forgot my wallet at home.
- Well then, I’ll take you to lunch then.
At that point, Jennifer barely seemed to be aware of where she was. She was sweating so she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt. After that, she left her hand wandering on her chest. She was trying her best to make it natural but I could see her finger slipped into her bra, searching for a nipple that was obviously showing up under her shirt at this point.
I realized that I was only half way to my experience, and if I did not hurry, I would not get to the strongest intensity of my – or Jennifer’s – toy before her orgasm. So I went to level 4. And she frightened me: she froze and all her muscles stiffened. She looked in pain and, as a reflex, I just shut down the vibrator.
- Noooooooo! shouted Jennifer
- I was almost there!
- I… she came back to her senses. Just work related: since this morning I have been working on a project and I think I lost everything.
I realized she had been only seconds from coming, and that I denied her this satisfaction. A few seconds later, I received a notification on my phone: I received a message from kinkyslut. Two words: FINISH ME. I almost gave in to her demand but I responded: “You do not call the shot here”. While she checked her phone, surely to read my answer, I put her vibrator back to 2. From the little experience I had, it was enough to arouse her but not enough for her to come.
Even if I was enjoying this, my boner was gone: every man has his limits and my penis is not strong enough to stand for more than two hours straight, even without satisfaction. I took this opportunity to take Jennifer to lunch. In the elevator, I switched off the vibrator. The lunch was mostly uneventful. At one point, she looked at her phone and smile. When I asked her why, she told me she had met someone on the Internet and that for once, the guy was interesting. To know that I was playing my hand well was indeed thrilling.
Back in the office, my spirit had change. I wasn’t excited anymore by the perspective of pleasuring my colleague. I was calm. I was in control. What Jennifer had said about the man she met on the Internet gave me confidence. The game had changed for me: it was not about sex anymore but about power. And I had to show her who had it. After that, I would do what was necessary to own her. And then I will think about my satisfaction.
I began the afternoon by putting her “in the mood” with a level 3. After that, I took her to the state I had left her the morning. For three minute, I granted her the satisfaction of an intensity of four but when I felt she was about to come, I backed down to 2. By the middle of the afternoon, I had figured her out. The “manual” was clear. At 4, she would reach bliss quickly. With 3, it would take a little more time. 2 was the synonym of keeping her at an even state of arousal, with a slight decrease over time. For the rest of the day, I kept her at the edge of nirvana but without granted her any final release. Each time I was backing to 2, her face would show a mix between frustration and a smile of “he got me again”. Strangely, she never looked at me with a suspicious look.
At the end of the day I send her a message. “Today was fun, but it is over. Tonight, you have a choice. You either finish you off, or you want to take this to the next level by not touching yourself.” I switched off her vibrator and half an hour later, I went back home.
That evening, before I went to bed, I received a message from kinkyslut.
“Dear Tormentor (she choose this nickname),
Today you made me live hell as I have waited it for years. I have to say, it was hot. On my way back home, I kept telling me this was it. I did not consider to take our thing further for a second.
When I arrived at my flat, my hands were shaking: I was finally about to get the release you denied me all day. I stripped fully naked, without even considering the neighbors from across the street who could have seen me. My nipples were hurting me from being erected all day, I was exhausted and my pussy was sore from hours of stimulation. When I removed the egg that had been between my tights all day, my body remembered the journey it had lived today. In a second my body heat increased. I wanted to touch myself, to get what you did not give but I was still too sensitive.
I had to cool down and the shower was too far away. So I ran to a window and pressed my body to the glass as hard as I could. I was literally in heat: I closed my eyes and rubbed my body against the cold and smooth surface. As I write this lines, I can see on the window the marks left by my sweat… and other bodily fluids.
Tonight, I wanted to be you to satisfy me in my dreams. But how could I imagine someone I don’t know? When I finally open my eyes, I saw at the other side of the street a boy looking at me. I winked at the fourteen or so years old and closed the curtains.
I was finally ready to get to business. I began to rub my breast and pinched my nipples, I felt the same thrill as when I was young and learnt how to pleasure myself. There was also a frustration close to what I felt back then because of my lack of practice. Tonight, practice was not the cause to my frustration: my imagination was. I could not keep myself from picturing someone getting ready to fuck my brain out: a coworker, a security agent from work, even the boy I have as intern. As I said, I wanted you to fill my dreams but how could I fill my dreams with the picture of someone I don’t know?
As long as I did not find a solution, I could only tease myself. Fast, the heat came back. I thought about a cold shower. Frankly, it was the sane idea. I did not want to be sane. I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. I drank half of it and splashed myself, in my own living room. You might not believe me and think I am teasing you. Do I really have to go this far to do so?
I was craving for more contact with glass, but I could not decently go back to showing myself to some teenager. I looked around me and saw my table, which happened to be in glass. I am sure you can picture me bending over the table, pressing my body against the glass, my legs stretched and my tiptoes on the floor. Most of all, I could picture a stranger fucking me in this position.
For the first time in my life, I have been tonight a screamer during a solo session. I was imagining a penis from a stranger ramming me, living again the sweat torture you put me through during the day. When I finally reached the point before freeing me of the frustration, I stopped. I do not know how you did it but all day you kept me in this state, and for my fantasy to be fulfill, I had to kept myself from coming too.
But when came the time where I had to finish me, I could not resolve myself to do so. One more stroke from two fingers and a little pressure to my clitoris and I would have been free. Free from the frustration but also free from your grip. You may have denied me heaven all day long, but you have given me the best sexual experience of my life. I liked being yours today. I liked feeling your gaze on me. I loved the idea of being fucked by you without me knowing who you are.
I want to take this further. And maybe soon I will call my Tormentor: Master.”
This was definitely hot. The problem was I told her not to touch herself if she wanted me in her life. True, she had done something harder: stopping oneself while masturbating. I had to consider where I wanted to go. I decided to go to sleep and take a decision on the morning, before going to work.
When I woke up, I had an idea. She had liked the one way intimacy we had the day before, and I wanted to take this a step further. When I replied to her, my message consisted on telling her to leave me a spare key of her flat next to her door on the Sunday; and that I had to come up with a suitable punishment for her touching herself even though I told her not to. The thing about asking the key to her flat for the Sunday was I would get as much time as I want in her home – I told her to leave it for the day – but it gave me enough time to think about a “punishment”.
I knew that one day she would know who I am. I had enjoyed invading her intimacy without sharing anything as much as she did, and I wanted this foreplay to last. The day before was about sex, this weekend would be about her private space.
I arrived early at Jennifer’s building on the Sunday. I wanted to see her left so I waited outside. When she was finally gone, I waited fifteen minutes before going in, just in case she forgot something. More than a flat, her home was a loft: one big space for cooking, eating, watching tv… one bedroom and one bathroom. This was an entirely new loft in a hold building: the dream of any bachelor living in the city. She had left me a note on her table that said to look at the window. It took me some time to understand that she was not asking me to enjoy the view but to actually loot not at the window but the window. I was almost invisible but you could guess the shape of a woman on it: her sweat had left an impression of her that she did not clean. At least she did not lie in her message.
I spent the day wandering around, looking into her stuff, watching what kind of DVD she had, reading the title of every book she owned, smelling every item in her bathroom… You can find it creepy, and you would be right. It does not matter. I even eat her food and showered at her place; leaving obvious evidence of my presence in her home. I went through her browser history – finding out she enjoyed really daring porn – and every piece of clothing she had. I wanted to know her better. I also wanted her to feel her privacy violated and that is why I did not put back in its righteous place any dvd, book, clothes… When I left, I took the keys with me, nothing else. And I left her a note: you still can say stop and I will be out of your life. I was doing some extreme things to her but I did not want her to be unwilling in this one way relationship.
At 4 a.m. I woke up. I live also in the city, and not so far away from Jennifer’s. I took my back and a package and went to her place. I knew she would be sleeping at that time of the night and I did not want to wake her up. I just wanted to leave her a new “gift” to wear: a chastity belt. It had took me two days to find one that could be wear in our day and ages without anyone noticing it, and allowing the one who wear it to satisfy any daily needs but sexual satisfaction. In the end, I had find one with a matching bra. Since the purchase came with a return for coupon policy, I guest Jenifer’s size. When I was at her place this day, I found out that the belt was at the perfect size but the bra one size to short… too bad for her. I left her punishment with a sleeping pill on the table of her living room with instructions:
- She were to wear it for a week – I would give the code to the lock the next Sunday.
- If she wanted to, she was free to wear underneath her other toy – and in that case, she would send me a message when she wanted it remove and take the sleeping pill at the end of the day for me to come and remove it without exposing my identity.
- For a reward, she had to provide me proof of her giving oral pleasure to a coworker female of hers before the end of the week on her table.
The last point was kind of a tricky one, and I had no hope of her succeeding it. There was only four women I worked with: Jennifer, of course, Amy – my boss, a young mother taking a maternity leave and an old rag. The formulation would left her think I did not know that, and it would also leave her with only one choice: Amy.
As I said, I did not think she would try, and even less succeeds.
Never the less, when I came back home for two last hours of sleep, I was for the first time exciting by the idea to go to work on a Monday morning.
I was so eager to work on Monday that I was the first at the office. We had the habits of doing a small meeting at the beginning of each week to tell one another where our work was. I decided to wait this reunion to check if Jennifer had put on the vibrator or not.
At least, when she arrived at work, it was clear for me that she was wearing her chastity belt. Normally, she would wear tight, but professional, clothes at work but this day, they were loose. Still, the beauty of my redhead coworker was undeniable, but I assumed she had to change her style to hide an otherwise too visible “archaic” underwear.
When she arrived at the meeting and I turned on her vibrator, I saw her jumped and gasped. She was wearing it! I decided to torment her as I did the other day, but just during the meeting – at least for the morning. I let myself be carried away last time, but this time I was more concerned about her wellbeing on the long run. I was putting her body under extreme situation and I did not want to harm her.
During the all hour the weekly meeting last, I saw her biting her lower lip, change her position on her chair and forcing herself to keep both hand on the table. Most of all, I saw her scanning the room to get a hint on her Tormentor. She did not get any – actually she never looked at me. I could still be someone from our floor or one of the twenty people in the room: in a big firm like ours, suspects were numerous.
Frankly, after the meeting the rest of the day was boring. I worked all day without giving any thought to Jennifer. During the evening, I received a message from Jennifer. She wanted the vibrator removed and asked also the permission to remove her chastity belt. It appeared that she asked Amy out to see a movie and offered her to eat at her place after that on Tuesday. She wanted to take her shot to my challenge, even though Amy thought it was only to hang out with her friend. She feared her… underwear would make her task impossible and wanted to wash herself.
On my way to her place, I stopped at a grocery store to buy baby wipes. When I entered her apartment, she was asleep in her couch, still in her work clothes. The pill I gave her was pretty strong and I did not fear to wake her up.
I took her in my arms to put her in her bed. After that, I looked at her. I had a gorgeous woman at my mercy and all my body wanted was to feel her perfect white skin against mine, my finger wanted to pinch her nipples and my cock was screaming for a taste. I could say I am not that kind of man, and it would be true, but would you believe me?
That night, while she was snoring a little to my surprise, I had my first intimate contact with Jennifer. I removed all her clothes from her and I saw her for the first time in underwear… metal underwear but still. As I already said, her c cup breasts were a little too big for the bra. Her skin was so white that there was no mark of any kind on her body. She had strong legs with a well shaped ass.
First, I took of the chastity belt. In a instant, the scent of her arousal invaded the room: she had been well aroused during the day and could not wash herself. If you wonder, my Jennifer is a natural redhead. She had a well trimmed pussy, not too much to disgust a man but not too little either. The end of the vibrator was resting on her clitoris. I took it and removed it as delicately as I could. She slightly moved in her sleep, opening her legs a bit more for me, and one of her hand went to her left breast. After that, I cleaned her pubis with the baby wipes before putting back the belt. It was not as erotic as I would have liked to be my first encounter with Jennifer in her bedroom, but it had to be done.
Before leaving, I let a note on her table – I was growing found on the idea of letting her real notes more than Internet messages. Basically, I told her the code to remove the bra but the belt would stay as I told her for the week. I left her another sleeping pill, in case she would score to get her reward.
The day after that, Jennifer was missing at the office during morning and left early at the end of the afternoon. Late this evening I received a message from her: “I have earned my reward, and I have it next to me in my bed. I would never have guest I was a lesbian and neither did Amy. But we spent a torrid evening and she is quite exhausted. She doesn’t know about our little secret, and I don’t want her to know. I want out. I want you out of my life.”
Needless to say, I never expected this. For a long time I had pictured Amy and Jennifer together but in my dreams, I was there. I had my chance with Jennifer and I blew it up. When I read her final message, I screamed in rage. But I did what I had to do: I send her the code to unlock her bed and the day after that, during business hours, I went to her place to pick up my toys and leave in her mailbox her keys.
It was over.