Her Web Master

by Normandie Alleman

  “No fight from Spencer?”

  “None, but that doesn’t surprise me since he’s the one who initiated the divorce in the first place.”

  “Yeah, but I would have expected him to fight you more for some of your money.” Shelby tapped her lips with a well-manicured nail.

  “He wouldn’t have gotten anywhere, so it would have just been a waste of time and money. At least that’s what the lawyer said.”

  “I’m sure he’s right. You just got lucky, that’s all.”

  “How’s that?” Not much about getting divorced made me think “lucky.”

  “He was a shitty husband, Sophie. You didn’t have to try to kick him to the curb and have him not want to go, to fight you, and all that. Lord, those divorces can be exhausting. I’m not saying yours is actually amicable, but it seems to be going a lot more smoothly than most. I’ve known people who it took three or more years to get divorced! So that’s what I mean. You’re lucky this thing isn’t going to drag out forever, and now you’re free to move on with your life.”

  “Good point.” I hadn’t really thought of those things, I’d been too busy feeling like a failure for getting a divorce in the first place. My parents weren’t happy about it, especially my mother. She definitely thought I should have found a way to make it work, and she wasn’t afraid to tell me so.

  Shelby handed me back the sunscreen. “Hey, what’s that on your hand?” She pointed at the “M” on one finger and the “C” on the other.

  Crap! I’d hoped she wouldn’t notice.

  “Um, that’s the guy’s initials,” I blurted, too rattled to try to come up with a good lie.

  “What do they stand for?”

  I froze. I was not about to tell her Master and Commander. She’d die. So I said the first thing that came to mind, “Michael Coleman.”

  “Michael Coleman, that’s his name?” Even through her sunglasses I could feel her penetrating gaze.

  “Yep.” Uneasy, I flipped over onto my stomach so she couldn’t see my face.

  “But why do you have his initials on your fingers? Oh my God, that’s not a tattoo, is it?”

  She grabbed for my hand, but I yanked it back.

  “No, it’s just ink from a pen.”

  “Okay, okay.” She sounded a little dejected. “But why do you have it there?”

  “He wanted me to, okay?” I said, sounding more peeved than I intended.

  “All right. This guy sounds really intense. Are you going to meet him in person, or is this just a fling to get you warmed up for dating in real life?”

  “No, it’s just a fling.” What MC and I did couldn’t be conceived of as dating under anyone’s rules. Was he helping me get ready to date in real life? Just the opposite. The more attached I grew to him, the less interested I was in meeting someone in real life. Plus, the fantasy was such a huge part of it. What MC was really like on the other end of the computer… Did I even want to know that person? I didn’t think so. That “real” person would likely be filled with flaws, the same as everyone, but the way things were—we both only brought our best selves to the table. At least so far.

  “Okay. Well, let me know when you get ready for me to set you up. I’m sure Peter has plenty of cute friends.”

  “The baseball player?”

  “Yeah. Did I tell you he plays for the Tulsa Drillers?”

  “You did,” I said, glad that the conversation had turned away from her.

  “Their logo is a big ‘T’ with a drop at the bottom. If you ask me it looks like a big cock, dripping semen.” She giggled.

  I laughed, thinking that was a logo MC would probably approve of.

  Later we jumped in the water, swam a bit, and made a few runs on the water skis. When they dropped me off that night I was starting to feel a little bit of heat on my shoulders, which I hoped wouldn’t turn into a burn.

  I showered, covered myself with aloe and cocoa butter lotion, and admired my new tan in the mirror. Lying in the sun was awful for my skin, which was why I’d used tons of sunscreen, but you couldn’t beat how great you looked after a day in the sun.

  Having spent the entire afternoon away from the computer, I was eager to check in and see if MC had sent me anything. I was thrilled to find he had.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MC’s message to me read:

  BEDTIME COME SESSION

  So you’re aching to come are you? The little slut needs some release. We need to get you primed and ready. You will follow the step-by-step instructions, however you may move on to the next command change at your own pace… Make that sweet hole feel good, li’l girl.

  Get out a roll of duct tape and your favorite toy. Strip away your clothes and wrap the tape around one ankle several times, pull the tape off the roll about 24” and start twisting it until it creates a tape rope. Next wind the tape around your other ankle so it won’t rip.

  Now repeat the whole exercise for your wrist only leaving about 15” between your wrists. Lie back and spread your knees wide.

  You need that sweet fuckhole nice and wet, so you will take one hand and pull back the hood and make that li’l clit pop out to play. Hold the hood back while the pad of your fingertip from the other hand circles your clit head lightly. Stroke, circle, stroke, circle. Now take your nail and stroke the tip very lightly. Then dig that nail in until it takes your breath away. Toy with that clit. Spank it, spank it again and again. Faster. Harder. Circle it again with the pad of your fingertip. Force that clit to swell and apply more pressure. Take that fuck bud under your finger and move it side to side. You need that cunt soaked, your scent filling the room.

  Drive two fingers deep inside that wet hole, push them deep until you can caress your back wall. Curl your fingers up inside and pull them back, raking along the roof of your cunt, feeling all the textures inside. Move those fingers back and forth across that roof. Softly at first and then harder. Work that roof and lather that hot hole.

  Now that we have you soaking wet, you will collect all your juices on your fingers and wipe them on both sides of your neck. Fingers back in to collect more of your juices to spread over your face cheeks. Take in your sweet scent as you go down to collect more juices. Spread them across your lips for you to taste and smell.

  Now take your thumb and start fucking that hole deep and hard. Pound it and keep sliding your thumb in and out across the floor of your sweetness. Fuck it good, fuck it deep. Grind that thumb along the floor of your cunt. Throw your hips against your thumb and take it like a good girl. Keep thumb-fucking that hole… drive it deep and rake the floor of your cunt. Don’t fucking stop.

  Two fingers in now, and then out to feed your hungry mouth your own juices, two fingers back to pound yourself good. Make it leak and pay special attention to your sloshing sounds. Three fingers in deep and make that hole splash. Take them good and feed your hunger. Get your toy and plant it inside you. Stroke it deep again and again.

  I’ll bet you’re ready to come, aren’t you?

  Cock still buried and now both hands go to work those nipples. Pinch them, squeeze them, twist, stretch them, with that cunt still humming. Cock out to rub that swollen little clit. Stroke it hard, abuse it, make that cunt need to come. Two fingers in from one hand, fucking that hole while you stroke that hot little fuck button hard and fast. Rub your little cock head, keep rubbing, stroke it, tap it, spank it, pinch it. Cock back in, hungry girl. Two hands on that cock. Pound that fuckhole. Make that cunt ache, strain to hum your back wall… Do it until you’re ready to come.

  You will pound that pussy with thirty strokes and count backward from thirty with each fuck stroke going deeper each time and once to zero… Then you will make yourself explode!

  Make sure you have your laptop next to you on the bed with instructions up on the screen so you can follow my commands.

  Be a good girl and make yourself come hard.

  MC

  I performed his instructions by lamplight with my laptop next to me, loving how naugh
ty it felt to do his dirty bidding. Some of the things he commanded, I’ve never done to myself before, including the tape. It surprised me how much I enjoyed spanking my clit, and wiping my juices on my neck and face—that felt perverse and whorish, which only amped up my arousal. At the end I came hard, then I let myself rest before making myself come again. Everything he’d asked me to do felt amazingly good and I couldn’t get enough. Before I fell asleep I sent him a detailed report of my play.

  The next morning, after he’d read my report from the previous night’s task, he contacted me via chat.

  MC: You can sense your sluttiness growing, can’t you?

  Sophie: Yes, sir.

  MC: The tape was only the beginning to give you a flavor of self-bondage, and believe me, it will get far more intense as we move forward. Your clit better start getting accustomed to some abuse and some strange feelings. Clit play will be your heaven or your hell.

  Sophie: That’s kinda scary.

  MC: There is no need for fear, but being anxious is understandable.. When you play, the scent of you needs to fill the air. I want to affect all your senses. I hope you are ready to come time and again, over and over.

  Sophie: I am, sir.

  MC: Good. I have to get back to work now, but you should be preparing for our phone session on Saturday.

  Sophie: Yes, sir I am.

  MC: Stay wet and be a good plaything.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As I prepared for our first session, some of his messages set me on edge. It started with this:

  Sophie,

  In our upcoming session, you will come to a true understanding of the meaning of painslut. This session will give you a much better sense of where we can go and test your tolerance.

  It will also be a good test of your willingness to comply.

  Understood? Agreed?

  Are you ready to be abused?

  MC

  I responded by telling him I was ready, but that I felt like he was trying to scare me. Did I have reason to be scared? Perhaps a healthy dose of fear was the intention to get my endorphins hopping…

  Sophie,

  I have been up front with you all along that training would get more intense. I believe you are now ready to move forward into unchartered waters. Your display of compliance and honesty has convinced me you have earned the training already provided to this point.

  I realize this can be very strange and wonderful all at the same time, and the experiences you take away will be invaluable to your growth as a good plaything.

  This is out of your realm of experience and at times may be slightly overwhelming, but you must put your trust in my hands and know I will take you at a speed that is healthy and safe.

  Should you be scared? No. Apprehensive? Yes.

  If you are feeling that way then the training is sinking in, and you’ve come to the realization that in fact you can be cyber-trained.

  Remember this is all about you, and your willingness and desire to be trained.

  You’re a good girl. Stay wet for me. And be sure to tell me your safe word in advance.

  MC

  I thanked him for his comments, letting him know that I trusted him to go at a speed that was safe for me. I also gave him my safe word, which was to be “bluebird.” I wasn’t sure why I picked that, but I liked it.

  MC explained this elaborate setup to me involving a chair, a broom, duct tape, and a dildo. He wanted me to stick the head of the broom between the mattress and the box spring of my bed so that the handle stuck out into the room. Then he instructed me to thread the broom handle between the vertical rungs of the chair from my kitchen, and finally duct tape the dildo securely to the end of the broom handle.

  I was to lay a pillow on the chair for comfort, and I was to be naked except for wearing an elastic circle around my waist, made by knotting eight of my rubber bands together. He also requested I have on hand the clothespins tied with twine to a pair of wristbands, a spatula, and a butt plug.

  Sophie,

  Once you have a taste of this upcoming task, I’m sure you will learn what it’s like to be a “greedy girl.”

  There are so many sessions, toys, and lessons ahead to turn you into a whimpering, compliant li’l slut.

  Saturday will be your coming-out party, and I’m sure you will behave as I demand and expect.

  Make sure you are keeping that fuckhole ripe and tasting the essence from your very core.

  MC

  A coming-out party? I had a coming-out party years ago… my mind drifted back to the white dresses, the curtsies, debonair men in tails, and waiters whisking past with trays of champagne.

  The party he was planning promised to be quite different than the debutante balls I’d attended.

  On the day of our first phone session I received this message:

  Are you going to be ready to play tonight?

  Have you been a good girl and tried your fuck-chair arrangements?

  Do you have all your toys built?

  Are you ready to be my fucktoy?

  Are you ready to be taken and abused on Skype?

  Are you ready to come hard like a helpless bitch?

  MC

  Nervous but excited, I sent him back a message answering in the affirmative to his questions. Then I got everything ready—my chair with the elaborate setup that would allow me to ride a cock, my headset and microphone for hands-free play, my array of toys all close by on the bed, and a fully charged laptop. Now if I could just survive the wait… My stomach churned with a mixture of nerves and excitement all day.

  My skin felt clammy, so I cranked up the air conditioner. I wasn’t just nervous about the pain that I was afraid might be inflicted upon me (or that I might inflict upon myself at the command of the man on the other end of the line). It was also the fact that I would actually be talking to him.

  Up until now, I had been following along with his instructions via email. Because of the medium, his communications should have had all the personality of a paper how-to instruction manual. Yes, somehow his persona came through anyway. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that a guy who’d had fifteen subs in the past wasn’t recycling a majority of his material. I mean, he acts as a teacher of sorts, and I was familiar with that. I knew when you utilize a certain curriculum the best you can do is try to tailor it to the individual student.

  But tonight, our interaction would be give and take—a conversation. And even if he used “old tricks,” he probably wouldn’t be reading from a script, though he did seem organized and so serious about training that I wouldn’t put it past him to refer to a set of notes.

  Tonight I would hear his voice for the first time. He would become a real person to me. Like Pinocchio becoming a real boy, he would transform from a cold, wooden voice on the other end of a cyber-connection into a flesh-and-blood man, at least as far as my ears were concerned. The prospect both thrilled me and made me want to vomit.

  The whale-call sound of Skype broke me of my reverie. I took a gulp of air and clicked the cursor to “answer” with my already-sweaty finger.

  “Hello?” I squeaked.

  “Sophie?” he asked. His voice was low and gravelly, not unlike what I’d expected.

  “Yes?” I took another deep breath and straightened, trying to harness a confidence I didn’t actually possess.

  “Are you prepared for our session? Did you do everything I asked?” He sounded angry, as though he expected me to answer “no” and was ready to punish me for it.”

  “Yes,” I managed.

  “Yes, sir,” he snarled, and I could have kicked myself for forgetting, but he’d gotten me frazzled.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Grab your spatula and smack that ass with it.”

  I picked up the black rubber spatula with the open slits running down the middle and whacked my backside with it. “Yes, sir.”

  “Count.”

  “How high?”

  “Just count each time you smack that ass. I’ll te
ll you when to stop.”

  “Do I start with ‘one’ or ‘two’ since I already did one?” His clipped tone had me so flustered I wasn’t sure what to do.

  “Begin again. Start with one and make it loud enough for me to hear.”

  “One.” I struck my rear end with the spatula.

  “Louder!”

  “Two.” I did this one harder. “Is that better?”

  “Is that better, sir,” he corrected. “Harder!”

  I whimpered. “Sorry, sir. Three.” I hit myself with significantly more force this time, and it really hurt. Involuntarily, I drew in a quick breath, giving him an audible cue to my reaction to the pain.

  “That’s a good girl.” The words dripped from his lips like the sweetest honey, and my cunt creamed. I closed my eyes and shivered. That was what I wanted, what I craved—his approval. Him telling me I was a good girl. It spoke to something deep inside me, and I knew then that I would do anything this man asked.

  “Keep going.”

  I jarred myself from my lusty daze and kept spanking myself, each time verbalizing a number, in the back of my mind praying I wouldn’t lose count.

  When I got to ten, he said, “Good girl. Now straddle that cock and ride it.”

  I was wet enough that I parted my legs, sat down with my lips hovering over it, and the dildo slid inside me relatively easily. My ass landed on the pillow and I was filled with a cock. I closed my eyes and almost forgot that it was made of rubber.

  “Grab the two forks. One in each hand.”

  “Yes, sir.” I bent at the waist and picked them up. The stainless steel felt cool in my already sweaty palms.

  “Start with the sides of your thighs and rake the tines of the forks over your skin. One against each leg. Make your strokes slow and deliberate.”