03~ My Virtual Dom
My shriek reverberating across the room joggles my body, compelling me to flung open my eyes. In the matter of a few seconds, the image of Mr. Stone fades away from my vision.
“Phew! Lucky me. It was a dream.”
My poor little heart is thumping rapidly. So rapidly that I can hear my heartbeats. The horror torment is more than enough to clear the foggy curtains of blurriness from my vision. My eyes scrutinizes the details of my room, just so as to cross examine my only presence in the enclosed chamber. I flutter my eyelashes a couple of times in the process of my investigation. Undoubtedly, the room is all mine. I was here all alone sleeping without any human intervention until the demon’s face popped up in my dream.
Sweat beads are trailing down my face. I rise up from my bed. My legs are currently wobbly, and my tone quivering.
It is a horrible dream, indeed. I will die out of embarassment if the dream comes true.
I titter at the silly yet amusing musing of mine, and grab the glass of water from the Oliver Engineered Wood side table. Gulping down the water does provide me some relief. The cold water coursing down my throat calms my anxious nervous and compels me to get back to my senses. I get off on my feet and saunter to the washroom to flash water on my face.
I open the tap and stand there for quite a few time, staring at my reflection.
Little Luci, do you fancy him?
The little inaudible voice inside my head questions. I response instantly to the question directed at me.
Hell no, who has time to hunt down a 33 year old man? Huh?
A change in colour of my cheeks becomes visible. He is thirty three years! His every words, including the assaultation are imprinted on my mind for reasons unknown. I catch myself red-handed in the mirror reflection.
My heart knows my fascination with older guys. I believe they are the real men because of their experiences. They strive for perfection. They know how to admire a true beauty, how to make a girl squirm under his gaze, how to correct her...
“FUCK LUCI STOP!!!” I shake off the inappropriate thoughts from my mind before yelling out my comment at myself.
“Mr Stone is 33. Who cares? My virtual Dom is almost 29 and he is the only man I fancy.” Confirmation is an important part of reaching one’s goal.
As a matter of fact, I am least interested in dudes like Ben. They can simply go, and screw themselves; they are not my types. We are not even dating and he is using me to get to the spotlight. Why not? I mean I have this typical bad girl reputation in the university. He is trying to pretend he is cool when he is uncomfortable to strip down in the basements.
I huff and begin splashing down the water on my face. Later, I gently pat my face with a towel and hang it back in the hooker.
Heading down to my room, I settle down on my soft comfy bed and place my laptop on my milky toned thighs.
Typing in the password I log into my device. I click on the browser and type the name of the website “www.testyourlimits.com”.
Clicking on the enter option, I sit impatiently to get a view of the site.
As much as I remember, I am using this service under the username Miss L for almost a year now.
The loading process takes time and frustration gets a strong hold on me. I tap on the refresh button repeatedly and cry out in disgust when nothing happens.
“Why the damn my server is so slow?”
Fianlly, the page gets loaded and the browser directs me to a black coloured pages with the golden designs. The heading reads ‘BDSM BOOKS AND VIDEOS’ Hastily, I click on the book and in a new tab the details of the book I had been currently writing arrives. PASSION FRUIT
I was asked to write about my experience of self-control. The process of edging. I can’t wait to see what he has commented on the piece.
Presently, I am not interested in views and likes. They are small numbers to care about which will ultimately fetch you nothing. My heart craves to jump into the comment section right away. I want to know what he has to say.
Selecting my book, I scroll down the comment section to find his name. I examine the comments intendly and make sure not to miss his name out by any chance. After devoting several minutes of my precious time, his username pops out infront brightly infront of my eyes. Sir_dominant
A light shiver runs down my body and excitement mixed with my fear engulfs me. I sigh deeply before focusing on what he has left a comment about.
The comment read: Very well written Miss L. I am very much interested in knowing the fact that you have devoted your time to use your wild imagination very wisely. However, I need the thing to be more detailed. I need to know each and every thought which was going on inside your head when you were denied the orgasm. The details of what you think while pleasuring yourself needs to be specified and how long can you hold yourself to the brink.
A good erotic writer never misses the chance to make their readers aroused by providing the details.
Oh man! How much more of the details you want? My virtual Dom is a good guy but he can he a real pain in the ass at times.”
If he was to hear me out saying this out loud, how could he punish me?
The visualisation of being taken over the knees and spanked flashes in front of my eyes.
Unexpectedly a notification pops up on my screen, indicating I have a messages dropped in my inbox. My heart knows the message is from him.
I catch a quick glance at the mirror before opening my inbox.
It’s almost 6 and I am very excited to see his face being revealed tonight.
I view his text.
Face time at sharp six.
Your Master Will.
Before I have the chance to type the response, another messages appears on my screen.
My beloved L,
Taking off your upper wear is mandatory, remember?
Your anticipation master William.
I bit my lip to hide excitement as the idea arouses me deeply. His messages are always typed in a short letter format, and he has a high expectancy for me to reply him following his discipline. Well, I love letters.
I take off my t-shirt, leaving my red coloured push-up bra on and stare at the screen. My D cups looks presentable for quite sitting in the bralette of his favourite colour.
I begin to input my thoughts in a letter form.
Your babygirl is ready!
Yours sincerely L.
Clicking on the send option, I await for his comeback. Master is online and has viewed my message instantly. He beings with his process typing as the reminiscence of how it all started flows back in my head.
It all started very innocently last year when I was 19. I was very much interested in writing down my very own erotic story but Wattpad (the largest writing community) wasn’t the good option. My friends could easily find me, and creating a fake profile was not my cup of tea either. I searched for an appropriate place dedicated for only Erotica(s), and heavy searching and browsing brought me here. Earlier all I cared for was a to write a good book and reach thousand readers.
I had established myself quite fast and was happy with the response. Mainly, I had books published in the platform with the same clichés. Basically it was the same old love song! It was super fun in the beginning, but slowly with the process of time, I started to feel bored by this tiresome hectic procedure. There was no spice in my story, and no amount of good positive comments were enough to motivate me. My readers were bragging in the comment section for an update, but my mind was empty. Hence, it was failing severely to fulfill their demand. No, it wasn’t a writer’s block. Or maybe it was.
All the topics I had chosen to write on were very common. My mind is always full of ideas so don’t underestimate me! The issue was all the ideas were the same! I was hopelessly scrolling down my homepage, and that was when I landed up on his profile.
His book titles seemed quite unique to me, and when I started reading, I was very intrigued by his ideas. Though his stories weren’t very popular and had high views than my books, but there were full of good content. I was desperate to have a conversation with the person. I approached him for ideas and he was very sweet to help me out. With every passing day, the conversation got more intimate and dirtier. I learnt he was a dom and I couldn’t be more than amaze by knowing this fact.
I was in the state of exhilaration and I was willing to learn more. Maybe the process of learning more brought me here. I was his little submissive girl.
Now standing in the present time, Imam eagerly waiting for our face time. A live interactive session sounds like fun, right? Besides, I will know the true identity of my dom tonight.
I look up at the screen. Three messages from him. They do not appear like messages of his eagerness to meet me. Rather, he has sent me texts expressing his anger, and frustration with me for not replying.
Immediately even before reading his messages completely, I type the word ’Sorry Sir’ in the chatbox. I have no time for following letter, but perhaps this will make the matter worse. Disobedience is something he hated!
Ignoring the salutation part, my eyes scans through the main content.
Do you have a ruler with yourself?
I need you to grab one for the session. No panties, I forgot to mention.
Are you there!? Are you listening to me? Are you ignoring me? Ok then, there’s no need for an interactive session.
The last text has arrived at 6:10 and now it is 6:15. Five minutes delay is not a big matter unless you are dealing with my strict master.
Damn! My heart sinks down. I have been waiting for this for so long. I type another text in a letter format begging for his forgiveness.
He doesn’t reply. The fault is mine. He is not active anymore. The active symbol goes away as someone logs off from the conversation or the site.
“Wait...he is kidding?” I stare at the screen, discreetly chanting for his return. Minutes which seem like years glide by, but my messages have been left unread.
My eyes widens with the ticking of clock. I am starting to lose hope.
Did he give up on me for real? I was so excited for the face reveal. After a year, I had an opportunity to know who this guy I was conversing with was. And, at the very last moment, I have ruined it all. I am a pathetic disaster!
TO BE CONTINUED....
Will poor Luci never get to find who her virtual Dom is?