Tested by Her Web Master (Web Master #2)

by Normandie Alleman

  When he’d planted the pearls deep enough for his satisfaction, he stood between my splayed legs and nudged the tip of his cock at my opening.

  “I can’t think of a more decadent pleasure for my greedy girl than to be fucked by both my thick cock and a new set of pearls in your ass.”

  With that, he entered me.

  I gasped. “Me either. Thank you, Sir.”

  He clutched my hips and plowed into me. My pussy stretched to accommodate him, the feeling in my bottom strange, but not bad. Once he picked up the pace and started to fuck me harder, I forgot all about worrying about what was in my ass. I simply let go, determined to enjoy the ride.

  “Remember to ask permission to come,” he warned.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  It only took a few minutes before I wanted to climax. “May I please come, Sir?”

  “Not yet,” he snarled, slowing down the speed of his strokes.

  This only succeeded in making me feel every nuance of the process. In an effort to stave off some of the pleasure, I bit down on the inside of my lip.

  With a devilish grin, on his next thrust Quentin lay his thumb on my clit and started making a small rubbing gesture.

  Frustrated, I let out a howl. “Please let me come, Sir,” I managed through clenched teeth.

  “Yes, you may come.”

  Every press of his thumb triggered my cunt to contort. The waves of bliss started to wash over me when I felt the unmistakable plink of one of the beads leaving my anal cavity, then another. It reminded me of pulling a stray hair out from between your bottom cheeks in the shower—only magnified by a thousand!

  His hips pressing into me over and over again, his thumb stroking my sensitive little nub, and ever so slowly he pulled that necklace from my rear end. I shuddered and shook, feeling like I’d completely lost control of my limbs, my center, my entire being. The world spun away into a sea of pleasure-soaked ecstasy, leaving me twisting in exquisite convulsions while Quentin pumped into me until he finally spilled his seed deep at my crevice neck.

  I floated for a while after he stilled, only coming back to Earth once he pulled out and started to gingerly remove the straps from my arms and legs.

  “Arms around my neck,” he instructed, and I wound my rubbery limbs around him. He scooped me up and carried me to his bed. I sank into his down comforter and doubled it over me. There was nothing I adored more than the way he made every inch of me feel so well-loved. Spent, I could barely keep my eyes open, but I heard him washing himself off and probably washing off my new pearls as well.

  When he came to bed, he asked, “Did you like your present?”

  “Very much.” I kissed his neck, curled into him and we slept.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The night after I returned home from my trip to see Quentin, I got a message from BA. He and I had a play session scheduled for Thursday night already, so I wasn’t expecting to hear from him so early in the week.

  MC mentioned he enjoyed his weekend with you. He told me you are a greedy girl who needs her cunt fucked. Have you recovered, and are you ready for a new task?

  Hmm. What had Quentin told him about our weekend? For a second I was annoyed that Quentin would talk to BA behind my back like that, but then I realized that, in some ways, that was the nature of our triangulated relationship. BA had to talk to Quentin about me if he wanted to learn. Knowing how private Quentin was, I probably didn’t have anything to worry about. In reality I couldn’t see Quentin sharing a bunch of details about his personal life, but I could see him offering a blanket statement with regards to our sexual activities. After all, it wasn’t my relationship with Quentin that was under the microscope—it was BA’s domination of me in ours.

  I sent him back a vague message about my weekend, but indicated that I was available for a task. It didn’t take long for his next communication to pop up on my screen.

  Here is your task. You will be taking on the public today and displaying how naughty you are.

  You will phone five stores, IE: drug, grocery, sporting goods, sex shop, clothing, restaurant, etc., etc.

  Five stores, your choice. When you're on the phone, you will be fucking that cunt hard and deep. I want you pounding that hole like the greedy girl I believe you to be.

  You will ask whoever answers the phone you are looking for a product called "bearded alpha". When they ask what it is, you will need a very good imagination to try to explain the product. IE: perhaps the call to the drugstore, the product could be a vitamin supplement, or the call to the hair salon could be about a specific style of beard trim. The longer you keep them on the phone or they put you on hold, the longer you can fuck yourself. Keep your composure and your dirty secret the best you can as you pump that cunt.

  You will list for me the types of stores you called. Tell me the kinds of products you made up and asked for and how long you were able to keep each person on the phone while you fucked yourself. I want to know how the entire experience made you feel.

  If you have a total of 25 minutes for all calls, you can have a good private cum session, but only by clitoral stimulation.

  The task MUST be finished by 10 p.m. your time. Do you understand and agree?

  Are you ready for our play date Thursday night?

  BA

  Sir,

  I am going to feel tremendously silly doing this, but yes, I understand and agree.

  I will send you my report by 10 p.m. And yes, I’m looking forward to our play date.

  ~Sophie

  Let's see where your imagination takes you, and if you can keep your composure. Challenge yourself and fuck that cunt hard.

  Results of this task will have a lot to do with how much pain you receive versus how much pleasure on our play date.

  Be good.

  BA

  This had to be the dumbest task ever. Was BA twelve? Thirteen? I couldn’t wait to tell Quentin about how totally immature his protégé was. But then that might make me look like a complete idiot for carrying out the task if I thought it was ridiculous. Crap.

  But I needed to do it because I was trying to be a good sub to Quentin, didn’t I? If I refused to comply with one of BA’s tasks, especially one that wasn’t mostly sexually based, was I defying BA? And, in defying BA, was I really defying Quentin? Or was I just being difficult? My head was spinning, and I didn’t know which way was up anymore, which was probably why I went along with BA’s juvenile task.

  I did manage to complete this task successfully, though it was more difficult than I thought it was going to be.

  First I called a drugstore as he suggested. I told them I was looking for "bearded alpha" which I thought might be for beard or hair growth. I said it might be in a bottle or a tube. I wasn't sure but my father-in-law had asked me to get some for him. They looked it up in their computer and said they didn't have it. That call lasted three minutes.

  My second call was to a home improvement store. I told them my husband asked me to find a product called “bearded alpha.” I figured if I played dumb, the call would last longer. When the man seemed clueless, I said I thought it might be a plant. They transferred me to the garden section where the lady said she didn't have it. So I asked her if she had any other bearded lilies or any other kinds of plants. She said no, but I listened to her tell me some of the other flowers and plants she recommended and how much they cost. Then I asked her to repeat some of it, telling her I needed to write it down. I was able to make that call six minutes.

  Next, I called a grocery store and told them the same thing I told the drugstore. The guy went and looked for it, but came back and said they didn't have it. Again, a three-minute call.

  When I called a big box store, I fortunately got transferred several times and that took up time. I finally got to their pharmacy department and asked her about "bearded alpha," which I thought was a hair growth product for the face. She looked but didn’t find anything so I asked what she recommended for fuller beard growth. She didn’t really have any
ideas, but that kept her on the phone longer. That call lasted eight minutes.

  My final call was to a barber shop. This place had been around since my father was a boy, and I felt kinda bad bothering the old guys who worked there. When I started that call I knew it needed to be five minutes long for me to successfully complete the task, so I was prepared to say anything to keep those fellows on the line that long. When the man who answered said that he didn’t know anything about a “bearded alpha,” I asked him if he could please ask some of the other guys in the shop. He told me to hold on, and I think they forgot about me. The man finally came back and said that he was sorry, but nobody knew about it. To drag it out, I asked him the store hours and what holidays they were closed on. That call wound up being seven minutes.

  At first I felt totally silly prank calling people, like I was asking them if their refrigerator was running. But the more I got into the task, the more goal-oriented I became, and my main objective was completing the task and having enough total minutes to earn my reward.

  Fucking myself while calling the different stores added some intrigue to the task. While I was on hold or while the person on the other end of the line was looking for the fake product, I was able to enjoy it. Other than perhaps taking a deep breath here and there, I did a good job keeping my composure. During the last call I moaned once while I was on hold, but beyond that, I remained under control the entire time. Of course when I had to talk with the people I became distracted from the masturbatory aspects.

  Afterward, since I had a total of more than twenty-five minutes, I buzzed my clit and made myself come. Since I’d been aroused for an extended period of time, the release was even more welcome and left me weak in the knees. A great orgasm. Well earned.

  When I came down, I typed up my report and sent it to BA.

  While the task sounded like something that would have been too immature for MC to have had anything to do with its origins, I could definitely spot MC’s influence in the dirty talk BA used to communicate with me.

  Sophie,

  Good girl... Sounds like you used your imagination and fucked that hole like the whore MC has told me you are. Did you ever wonder if the person on the other end of the phone was suspicious of anything?

  Did you care whether it was a man or woman you were talking to? Did you like having your dirty secret to share with others?

  Did you like being a slut and them not knowing?

  Did you like using my name to remind you of who was tasking you?

  When you open this, I want that cunt stroked thirty times while you count backward. After your strokes, you will reach in with two fingers and taste those sweet fuck juices. I want to know what you taste like.

  BA

  Again, it struck me how his dirty words could ignite my lust. Even though I didn’t know him, I could feel myself slowly falling down the filthy slope into BA’s carnal control.

  Sir,

  I really did such a good job of keeping my composure that I am pretty sure the person on the other end of the line didn't realize what I was doing. It didn't make a difference to me if it was a man or a woman I was talking to because I wasn't really thinking about them. Of course I thought of you when asking for "bearded alpha" and that was kinda hot. I also liked having the dirty secret of knowing that I was playing with myself. It felt slutty, and I liked feeling like a dirty little whore and them not knowing, but I’m not big on exhibitionism. It simply doesn't give me a thrill. I know other subs are into it, but it just doesn't do much for me.

  I’m not sure how to describe what I taste like. Tangy and sweet, maybe? I think you would love how I taste though. I posted what you asked me to. I hope you are pleased, Sir.

  ~Sophie

  As I wrote that, I wondered if I’d crossed the line. How much was I supposed to flirt with BA? How much was beyond acceptable? Sometimes it didn’t seem like there were limits in the way he and Quentin talked when they were acting as an online Dom. Yet there was a difference between the real world and the fantasy world that existed only on the internet.

  The trick was figuring out where one ended and the other began.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It had been a rough day at school. The children’s emotions were running high and one of the little boys cut off a hunk of one of the little girl’s pigtails. I left a message for both childrens’ parents and braced myself for the less than pleasant conversations that would follow once they returned my calls.

  The minute I got home, I strapped on my running shoes and ankle weights, grabbed Felix’s leash, clipped it to him and headed out the door. It was an unseasonably hot day for October, and I could have done without the stifling humidity, but it was only a walk and something I could handle for twenty minutes at least. Hell, I needed an endorphin release and a change of focus.

  I turned up the volume on my headset, but my mind kept drifting back to the “come session” I’d had the night before at BA’s direction. I’d been by myself, not on the phone or internet with him when I’d done it, but I’d done something I felt slightly uneasy about.

  I’d thought of him when I masturbated. Perhaps, since BA gave me the task, that was okay. Maybe Quentin would have expected that from me and wouldn’t be bothered by it in the least.

  But it bothered me. It made me feel like I was straying. Because in my heart, I almost was.

  The busier Quentin was, and the more he pushed me toward BA, the more I embraced my new role as BA’s submissive.

  I’d lain there fiddling with myself, imagining what BA looked like. He’d have a long, well-manicured, sexy beard—the kind all those twenty-something hipster models sported. I bet it would tickle, but in a good way… BA would have piercing blue eyes. The kind that made him seem haunted and like you never really knew what was going on behind them, but you were dying to find out.

  He’d have an easy laugh, and he’d love sports. The kind of guy who played a pick-up game of basketball at the local gym every Saturday afternoon or Fridays after work. Though I had no idea what his name was, in my fantasy it was Bruce. Okay, partially from Bruce Wayne, masked crusader, and partially because it worked as the “B” in “Bearded Alpha.”

  I relished the idea of being desired by more than one man. It was every woman’s fantasy, wasn’t it? I hadn’t known it was mine until Quentin introduced me to the idea, but now I was taken with it.

  Ultimately, whoever BA was, he wasn’t the one for me. That was Quentin. But BA loomed large enough to swoop in and threaten our love once Quentin realized the sexual hold he had over me, the sexual power he wielded… I had a rich fantasy life, and these days it was starring BA.

  I was walking quickly and tripped over a rock. I stumbled and caught myself just in time before I fell headfirst into the asphalt.

  No matter how many times or ways I approached Quentin, he seemed to believe my dalliance was not only a positive thing, it was his request. However, something told me that by indulging in my increasing desire for BA, I was walking a thin line, and danger was on the other side.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Two weeks later I was back in Washington, riding down the highway with Quentin and a big haul of groceries we’d picked up on the way back to his place from the airport. He planned to cook steaks on the grill, bake some potatoes and fix a big salad for dinner. I thought it was kinda sweet since he’d never cooked for me before.

  Unable to keep my hands off him, I reached over and rubbed the back of his neck while he drove.

  He shot me a sideways grin. “Shouldn’t you ask permission to do that?”

  I rolled my eyes. “May I please rub your neck, Sir?” I asked with a slightly mocking tone.

  “You may,” he said with an imperious tone that would have made me want to gag if it hadn’t been so adorable.

  Over the past few months things between Quentin and I had changed. We spent enough time together that there were chinks in his “I’m a mean, badass Dom” armor. Our relationship morphed into something more than simpl
y Dom and submissive. I’d fallen and I hoped he felt the same way. During that time there were moments when he was vulnerable.

  It was bound to happen. Real life was not the same as online relationships where everyone brings their “best partner” self to the table and when the session is over they log off and go back to their true selves. Eventually, when you spend time together in real life, real-world things come up.

  There was the time he had to change a tire in driving rain with traffic whizzing past dangerously close to where he worked, kneeling in the almost pitch black night with incredible calm and competence that made me swoon and want to put my life in his hands. I’ve also seen him felled by a cold. He behaved like a complete baby, and all signs of the tough Dom vanished into thin air when he whined for more chicken soup. I saw the tender look in his eye that showed me how much my nursing meant to him.

  Quentin liked the Dom thing. Needed it. He wore it rather like a mask that he hoped would hide and protect his vulnerable side. But the more I got to know him, the more I loved his softer side. I’m not sure if I was drawn to that side of him the most or if it was because I revered the part of him that was most rare to catch a glimpse of.

  I loved the tough Dom exterior, but something told me that if he stopped doing all those kinky things to me, that I would still love him the man.

  I was shaken from my thoughts when he swerved to miss some debris on the road.

  “So what made you decide to cook?” I asked, wanting to make conversation.

  “I have a special dinner planned, and it was the kind of dinner that wouldn’t work in a public setting, like the restaurants we usually frequent.”

  “Sounds intriguing.”