“Mmmm,” I say. Then I tell him I love him, and he tells me he loves me too.
“You’re a good little cumslut,” he says and puts his arms around me.
We rest for a little while and then begin round two…
The End
MC: Well done. Now take your fuck-juice-soaked cock, get it in your mouth and suck while you stroke your fucking clit, until you make yourself come. Tell me when you’re finished.
Writing that story had me all worked up, so I was eager to finish his instructions. Tasting myself on the dildo was surprisingly arousing. In the past, I hadn’t liked the taste, but I must have become conditioned to associate it with pleasure… part of training. I did as he asked and stroked myself to orgasm.
Afterward, I felt shaky, spent after my climax, so I got something to drink and took a bathroom break before sitting down to let him know I’d finished my task. When I was ready, I typed:
Sophie: Done.
MC: You are a good girl, although I would much rather have you feel stings across your ass or stretch and abuse your nipples, pull your hair while I mouth-fuck you.
I would also want your teeth running up and down the full length of that thick purple under vein and then swirling your tongue around my cum hole sampling pre-cum.
I hope you enjoyed this exercise and you’re staying wet and on edge all day.
Sophie: Yes, sir. I did enjoy it.
MC: Good. Today you will write in pen or marker on the back of your left two fingers the letters MC. M on your ring finger, C on your middle finger. It will be up to you how to explain it if anyone asks.
Those two fingers are the ones you will fuck yourself with every hour on the hour for two minutes each time. You will clean them off with your mouth and tongue while looking in the mirror at the hungry little whore you have become. Understood?
Sophie: Yes, sir.
MC: You will need a wooden chair for our next session and I need an accurate description of what it looks like. Don’t forget the headset with the mic and the wooden blocks. You realize our next session will be ramped up with more intensity, passion, lust, and demands. Stay wet.
After we signed off, I planned how I would take a shower then write the “MC” on my fingers so it would stay on most of the day. As I did so I realized that in some ways, I didn’t recognize myself or my life anymore. Everything now revolved around the sexual play with MC. It was all I thought about, all I looked forward to. Staying on edge, hungry,—the way he wanted me—well, it had taken over my life. As fun and exciting as it was, I questioned if it was healthy.
Staying lost in the haze of sexy submission made me feel like a bit of an addict. In some ways it was a deliciously blissful existence, but I worried that a part of me was hiding from the world, avoiding reality. At least I was getting out of the house and socializing with someone besides MC today. That was something.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I still can’t believe Spencer walked in on you.” Shelby giggled as she preened on the sun deck of her Cobalt A40 in her white bikini.
I was relieved that she hadn’t brought any boys with us today. Apparently once J.J. had become too busy with football camp, Shelby moved on. She’d taken up with some minor league baseball player, but fortunately he was busy today so it was just the two of us and one of her minions, who drove the boat and offered drink refills whenever necessary.
The lake was calm today, and the water sparkled with diamond ripples as we rocked peacefully.
“I know. I was mortified.” I slathered sunscreen on my chest, and passed the tube over to Shelby.
“So this new guy, he gives you instructions on what to do, how to masturbate and stuff? That’s wild, but kinda hot.”
I’d told Shelby a little about my online conversations with MC, but only enough to explain what had happened with Spencer barging in on me in flagrante.
“Yeah. It is.” I didn’t want to risk Shelby’s disapproval, so rather than elaborate, I tried changing the subject. “I called that divorce lawyer you recommended. He says that since we don’t have any kids and my father made him sign a prenup, things are fairly straightforward. The papers are filed and everything should be completed in a few weeks.”
“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.