Total Cyberslut: The Entire Series

by E Ashford

  Total Cyberslut: The Complete Series

  A story for adults

  By E Ashford

  Copyright 2016 by E Ashford

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents

  Part 1: Testing the Waters................................................................................................... 4

  Part 2: Riding the Waves................................................................................................... 14

  Part 3: On the Crest........................................................................................................... 24

  Part 1: Testing the Waters

  This story is a fusion of real and imagined events. It takes place in the mid-90s, a time when the internet was still more like the Wild West and a naïve, innocent girl could get into a lot of trouble, or have a lot of fun, depending on your perspective.

  *****

  Katie leaned back in the desk chair, her feet firmly planted on the desk in front of her, one on either side, her small thighs splayed wide. Her blue eyes focused intently on the screen sitting on the desk, using the words to stimulate her mind. The story she’d found was about a girl about her age who had been made to come to school completely naked. The idea of that was almost enough in and of itself for Katie: the thing that made her shiver the most – that’s what she had always called it until she had begun reading some of these stories online and learned the words “orgasm” and “come” – the thing that made her shiver uncontrollably was when she imagined herself naked in front of a crowd of nameless, faceless men, letting them look at her, letting them see all of her. She wasn’t sure why that did it. No one had ever seen her naked, at least that she could remember. Sometimes the idea of sex simply overwhelmed her. She could imagine it from some of the descriptions she read, but it seemed fuzzy somehow, indistinct. The possibility that she could let someone see her nude body though was very real; that she could picture.

  At first the girl in the story merely walked around the school with no clothes. The principal had issued a warning that no one was to touch her. Her school mates were all to pretend she was fully clothed. But then the principal had called her into his office at lunchtime, and he had recorded himself fucking her on his desk and broadcast it to every classroom in the building.

  As she read this, Katie’s right hand moved faster, two fingers circling around and around her clit. The two fingers of her left were in a twist, stuck into her pussy up to the second knuckle. She pulled them out of her slit; they made a glistening trail through her trimmed pubic hair as they quickly brought more moisture to her clit before returning inside her. While her right hand continued to speed up, made more furious by the words on the screen, her left moved more slowly, searchingly, feeling for just the right spots, just the right places to unlock the shiver, the orgasm, the come. And then, as she thought of all the boys in all the classrooms watching the school girl, listening to her scream, Katie herself began to feel her own orgasm building inside her. She tilted her head back, her curly red hair falling down the back of the chair, closed her eyes, going only on feel and imagination now, and let her feelings take her over the edge. She managed to come twice before the wave finally subsided.

  *****

  When her step-brother Matt opened the door at 4:00, she was curled up innocently on the couch, reading a Babysitter’s Club novel. She like to curl herself up this way. She was tall, with long legs made muscular by the soccer fields, but she had always wanted to be small. Most of the girls on TV were small. The tall girls always wound up with the “friend” roles, just a little awkward and never the ones to get the cutest boy.

  Matt slung his tennis bag into the closet near the door and sat down on the other end of the couch.

  “What have you been up to all day?” he asked.

  “Videogames, mostly,” she told him, not looking up from her book.

  She didn’t tell him, and it never would have occurred to her to tell him that she had had two masturbation sessions that afternoon, one right after lunch while reading the school story and a second about an hour ago to a story about a girl who had psychic powers and was able to make any boy she wanted fall in love with her. That was nothing special – just a way to pass the summer day when she felt bored. It wouldn’t interest anyone, least of all Matt. When she finished the chapter, they turned on the TV and watched until their mother came home and started supper.

  *****

  When she’d finally summoned up her courage to type in the word “penis,” she was amazed by what appeared on the screen. She hadn’t really expected them to look quite like that, and she certainly hadn’t expected so many and in such variety. The stories, of course, had talked about how men came, but she hadn’t really thought about the hole in the tip. That made sense, of course: come had to come out somewhere. She’d just never considered it. Then there was the hair. She knew boys had more hair on them – like her step-brother’s legs – but she hadn’t expected the penises to have so much around them. Of course, not all of them did. Some seemed to have no hair at all, and she pondered that and what might cause a man to shave it all off. She decided that, on the whole, she like both kinds, but the hairier ones seemed more…complete somehow.

  She thought too about the rounded, mushroom shaped head of it. The long part of it didn’t seem so different from her fingers – maybe less fun because they were smooth. But the top seemed so large to fit into a woman? Her own slit seemed so small to her, and she had trouble imagining how it would all work.

  She wondered if maybe the head did something special. Maybe it pulsed in some way, so it could touch just the right spots inside the girl, the right spots at the right moments, the way her fingers did. The next time she masturbated, she imagined it this way, the man’s penis wriggling inside her, touching her here and there, while her right hand rubbed at her clit. It made her feel good, imagining that. Some of them seemed curved, so maybe they bent a little when they moved like that. Like a snake perhaps.

  After a little more searching, she began to find lots of pictures of penises actually in vaginas, and though she still wondered how she would ever fit one inside of her, she could see that these women had vaginas much larger than hers. It must be something that grew, like boobs. She experimented, trying out a few masturbation sessions while looking at these, and there was certainly something about it, about imagining a man filling her up inside. The men seemed to go so deeply into the women. But the best shivers still came from the stories. Sometimes it did happen that looking at pictures first made the shivers stronger, but the stories were always best.

  And it might have gone that way for the whole of the summer, if she hadn’t noticed something one afternoon on one of the pictures. It was the name of a website, www.cumhumpers.com. It suddenly occurred to her that this might be a source of more stories, and certainly, of course, more pictures. She was right about the pictures it turned out. The homepage was a long scroll of random pictures of men and women doing it together. It also said quite clearly, just beneath the flashy banner, “Subscribe Now, only $19.95 a month.” She had no money of her own, and she was quite sure her mother wouldn’t be interested in funding her new summer habit. Anyway, pictures weren’t as good as stories, and there weren’t any stories on the page. She was just about to navigate somewhere else when she noticed the “Free Chat” button on the side menu. It had never occurred to Katie before that she might talk to another person about sex rather than just read stories. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d like that, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?

  The window that opened was mostly blank when it popped up, but within seconds a message appeared at the top, followed by two
more in quick succession.

  “Is your pussy hairy?” the first one asked. At first she assumed this was a question for her. She had begun to look for a way to respond, and had located the comment bar at the bottom of the page, when the next comments scrolled by.

  “Nope, clean shaven, baby. I like that smooth feel.”

  “Too bad,” came the response, and this time she noticed that next to the comments was a name. In fact, she now realized, there was a whole list of names on the right hand side of the page, maybe six or seven. Three, though, said “Guest” with a number after them.

  Her screen was full of texts now, and it was confusing, but it seemed as though several conversations were taking place at once. In addition to the conversation about the hairy pussy, or rather the hairless pussy, another pair of names seemed to be talking about threesomes. One man (apparently) was trying to convince another (apparent) man to bring his wife to some motel in Chicago: “Just tell her it’s a romantic getaway. We’ll convince her once she’s there.”

  After watching for a few minutes, Katie decided to give it a try herself. Not really knowing what to say, she went with the easiest: “Hi” she typed into the box, and saw it pop up at the top of the screen. She realized then that she herself had a name – Guest 88432 – since it was attached to her “hi.”

  Two “hi’s” a “Hello,” and a “Welcome” came back in response. Well, anyway, they seemed friendly.

  “S/L? one asked suddenly.

  Katie was confused. She quickly typed a question mark.

  “Sex? Location?” the writer typed.

  “My name’s Katie,” she wrote, and then, “Female. Atlanta.”

  “What do you do, Katie from Atlanta?” another asked.

  “I go to school,” she said simply.

  “Really?” another writer joined the conversation. “We’re supposed to believe you’re still in school? Sure. Would you like some candy, little girl?”

  Katie wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. It didn’t seem quite…genuine.

  “Yeah, Katie, if that’s your real name. What school do you go to?”

  “Northside,” she typed, pleased to have a question she could answer, but wondering what had happened to all the sex talk. It seemed like sex chat was actually pretty boring.

  “Do you wear a school uniform?” a man named Tom asked?

  “Yeah, do you ever wear it without panties, let the teacher get a peak?” another “Guest” asked.

  She was on the verge of answering this one, in fact she had it half typed, when a small box popped up on the left hand side of the screen. At the top of the box it said “Private Chat,” and in the box itself it read, “Nick has invited you to a private chat. Click here to join.”

  She clicked the button and the words disappeared. Meanwhile, texts continued to scroll in the larger window she’d left open, but she was more interested in what might show up in the smaller box, the “private chat.”

  “Sign out of the chat room,” it said presently. Katie just stared at it.

  “Sign out of the chat room!” it said again, more urgently. “Now! And don’t say anything else about yourself before you do it!”

  She wasn’t sure what to make of that, but the chat room was boring anyway. She clicked away from it and back to the homepage. The smaller chat box remained open.

  Nick was quiet for nearly a minute, and Katie was just about to head back to a story site – she was bored and horny – but then suddenly, “Katie?”

  “Yes,” she typed.

  “Thank you for meeting me here.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Can I ask you something, Katie?”

  “OK.”

  “You really are still in school, aren’t you? And you really do live in Atlanta?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she typed. She’d said so, hadn’t she?

  “Listen to me very carefully, Katie,” he typed, and then, “What you were doing is very dangerous. Those people probably didn’t believe you were for real, but eventually they would have. And you told them the city you live in AND the school you go to. With that information, one of them could show up and kidnap you, maybe kill you.”

  Katie found this hard to believe. Kill her? That seemed a little extreme. And how exactly would they track her down just from knowing her school. Like 1000 other kids went there too. Anyway, it was summer. If they showed up looking for her they’d be very disappointed.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” Nick asked.

  She thought that over for a moment. “Looking for sex stories,” she typed at length.

  “Hmmm. What kinds of stories?”

  “Well, I like all kinds. I like stories about kids my age best though. You know, kids in school, cheerleaders, football players.”

  “Well, I know a lot of sites with stories,” Nick said. “I can give you the links. But how did you wind up here? No stories here.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she typed. “But I thought ‘chat’ might be fun.”

  The thread went quite again, and then…”I’ll talk to you. If you promise not to go to any more open chat rooms.”

  “OK,” she agreed. That had been pretty lame anyway.

  “What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

  “I thought I told you already. Sex.”

  “Well, what do you want to know?”

  “Oh, I know about sex,” she told him plainly. “But I like hearing about it. I like thinking about it. So, like, you’re a guy? How old are you?”

  “Yes, I’m a guy. And I’m 45. My name’s Nick, by the way. Nice to meet you, Katie.”

  “OK. So, what was the sex you had like? I mean, like the last time you had it.”

  “Hmmmm. You think you should be listening to stuff like that?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” he typed slowly, and then, “I mean, you’re pretty young. How do I know you won’t freak out over what I tell you? How do I know you won’t tell someone else about it? Then I’d be in a lot of trouble.”

  “I don’t see how,” she said simply. “How would anyone find you? Besides, I read about sex all the time. I masturbate at least twice a day. I don’t think you could tell me anything I haven’t heard.”

  “You masturbate that much, huh?”

  “Yes. Some days more. Once I did it five times in a day. But I only shivered once each time, and I only did it that one day.”

  “Shiver?” he asked.

  “Come,” she remembered. “Lots of times I come two or three times at once. But that day it was only one at a time. Get it?”

  “Oh, I see,” he said. He went quiet again. Then, “What do you look like?” he asked.

  “Well, I have curly red hair,” she typed. What else should she say about herself. “My eyes are blue. I have freckles on my face and some on my legs, but mostly everything else is really white. What else do you want to know?”

  “You sound really nice. I like freckles and red hair. What are your breast like?

  “32 B. Pale, pale pink nipples, maybe two inches across.”

  “So how tall are you?”

  “5 feet, six. One of the basketball coaches tried to get me to play for the team, but I’m a soccer player. Not enough time for two sports.”

  “Ok, one more question for you,” he said then.

  “Sure. But then I get to ask you one. And you promised to tell me about your last sex.”

  “That’s fair,” he typed. “But first, tell me what you’re wearing.”

  “Nothing,” she said simply. It was true. She sat in her office chair without a stitch. It was another one of those feelings, as close to being nude in public as she could imagine. Her clothes – shorts, a t-shirt, and her blue panties, lay in a pile next to the unmade bed in her room.

  “Wow!” he replied. “Hey, do you have any hair down there?”

  “That’s cheating!” she wrote back,” you said that was the last question. But yes. Red, like the hair on my
head.”

  “Ok, ok, you win. What do you want to ask me?”

  “Well, I mean, what does your penis look like? They all seem so different. What’s yours like?”

  There was a pause so long this time she thought he might have left, but eventually he was back: “Sorry. I wasn’t buck naked like you. Thought I’d take my clothes off so I could answer your question better. I’m not exactly sure how to describe my cock. I guess it’s about average. You’ve probably seen some really big one in pictures. Mine isn’t like that. Just normal. I won’t get the measuring tape, but probably about 6 inches long, and maybe two inches wide. There’s hair at the base of it, and on my balls as well. Right now it’s standing straight up thinking about you.”

  “Is it curved?”

  “Nope. At least not much. Just straight and hard. Have you ever felt one?”

  “No. I guess I never thought about what they feel like. Are the soft?

  “Well, the skin is very soft. But it’s hard underneath. Like a muscle when you flex it. The top of it, the head, is different though – kind of spongy feeling I’d say.”

  “Cool. I’m going to masturbate a little. Ok?”

  “Please do!” he replied quickly. “I think instead of telling you about the last time I had sex, I’ll tell you about the first time. That’s much more interesting, or at least it was to me. I’ll try to make it like a story. But every once in a while, will you stop and type what’s happening with you? What you’re doing? And definitely tell me when you shiver.”

  “Sure.” She took her forefinger out of her cunt and stuck it in her mouth, tasting herself. Then, leaving a generous portion of this mixture of juice and spit behind on her clit, she put it back inside herself and begin to make slow circles on her now very slippery little knot.

  *****

  Katie gave up stories, at least for the time being. A real live story, unfolding as she watched, was so much better at making her come, and come hard, than any story ever had been. There was another person on the other end of the computer now, a real live man, with a real cock between his legs, thinking about her while he rubbed it and coming when she came. He told her stories of other girls he had fucked, about the young girl he had fucked when he was twenty-five; about the time he had found three young prostitutes on the side of the road who, needing a ride to their motel, were willing to fuck him all at the same time, one after the other; about visiting Mexico once and seeing a woman fuck a donkey. But best of all were the times when it was a story about the two of them, happening as he told it. One day he had suggested she find a hairbrush, and use the handle instead of her fingers. She’d found one in her mother’s bathroom, round and made of polished blonde wood. It had felt different than her fingers, and in some ways not as good, since she couldn’t find the sensitive spots as well. But it was stiffer than her fingers, more like she imagined a cock might feel, his cock in fact, and that made the experience all the more exciting, the idea that this was how it might really feel. Besides, the length of the brush made it easier to move in and out without having to reach quite as far. Otherwise though she maintained the same position in her chair, her hips pushed forward, so her bottom just hung off the end, her heels pushed against the edge of the desk, knees bent.