14 comments/ 56724 views/ 9 favorites Teamviewer Enslavement By: jothesmo My ex banged the door in my face. Two minutes later, the CD I'd asked for back came sailing out the upstairs window, landing on my car. The paint on the hood took a dent, but the CD rolled off the windshield, took a turn, and landed at my feet, intact. I could see Harold in there, looking out the window, smiling. The divorce was last Monday. Harold had been an item for a year; at first a secret then not so much. He was a doctor and worth a couple mill. Me, only half of my first, but still sub-standard to Mary. I'd been the last to know and that rare CD had been something she'd taken for spite. I let it sit and pulled away, determined to never speak to her again. I hadn't asked a lot, just some play-acting and a little dress-up maybe once a month, and she'd even asked to do it for me the last time. My submissive moments had clearly been too much for her though, and she'd started looking around for a 'real man' Men aren't supposed to have fantasies of submission, don't you know. Even if we act macho ninety percent of the rest of the time. Men like me feel guilty about it, hide it, feel pretty bad about it when rejected and even when not. I pulled into my driveway of my new house. We'd sold the old one, she'd taken a lump sum, and I'd opted for this one out in the country edge of town, a few neighbors, but not so close on the country road with the big mailboxes out front and the farmer's field across the way. With the move down, I felt like I was starting over and didn't have bills. In fact, I had a load in the bank and planned on retiring at forty, maybe ten years from now. Two bedrooms, garage, shed and trees. Work as an auditor paid decent if you had the right kind of clients, and I did a lot of my work at home. What to do? I parked myself in front of the computers, where I had a half days work waiting. I had the shades drawn, the curtains pulled and the door locked. It was just me and me. Maybe I'll try that e-Harmony thing and just type in, Submissive male, most days normal, good looking, easy to get along with, wants panties, bra and an apron on the 15th of the month, but otherwise tame. Nah, women didn't like tame. They wanted walks in the park, romantic dinners and the spatula treatment from men who acted like linebackers. The computer screen lit up, and I went to some video porn sites. It's amazing what you can see on the internet for free. And, you don't have to get personal even once. Trust me, I don't want anyone else involved. I've had enough of feeling guilty about relationships. Just videos and stories and cyber junk. Even chat's risky. I don't do that anymore. Then again, I was single again, so why the high standard? Well, because I really didn't need it. But still, I was feeling lonely. I bit my lip and fought the impulse because things like that are always frustrating and superficial and in the end of no worth. I shimmied out of my pants and shirt. I had my dick out. Monday was three days away. I booted my old, now non-work computer, the desktop, not my laptop. I used it for backups and porn, but otherwise I was a laptop man. Maybe I should go on some clothing site and buy myself a full French maid outfit? Or maybe I need cured from my sexual compulsions? Where's Doctor Phil for sex addicts? No, I'm not going to buy anything. I'm just going to cruise and be reasonable, I determined. Everything on the web is free. I never bought anything. There's nothing out there that more real than free-and-distant can already get. I went to YouTube. That is sometimes cool because you often find real people, as opposed to the models and professionals on those model and professional video sites. I typed in FEMDOM. Damn, but the commercial freaks were jamming that up too. Like one out of every hundred looks like a regular housewife playing with guys on the net. She's got kids and a husband, I figure, and if they knew what she was doing they'd probably croak. Lot of feet kissing videos that spam every single day. The opposite from femdom down on the farm. I'm looking for a woman using a fly swatter instead of a whip, a rope instead of buckle-cuffs and wearing a housecoat or jeans with a flower-print top instead of vinyl. It's all about her enjoying it and being obtainable. Real means real people, real props, real lifestyle, or at least it does to me. I do a little tour, letterotica, bdsmlibrary, elisesutton.homestead and asstr. From there it's xhamster and yuvutu. All of that was good, and I snatched a bunch of good stories and even some videos with my You Tuber software. Alright, back to Youtube. Maybe something real is out there though, not so much in the flesh, but at least in video? I stumbled upon a couple of weird ones: Little Robbie's Wallet Draining and Ebony Financial Domination & Money Slavery. A couple of guys had let some mistress remotely access their computers and they'd taken him to video sites to buy videos and some minor Amazon gifts. One ran up a bit of a bill, but that was probably extreme from one of her regulars and maybe even staged. The way the lady dominated these guys seemed pretty impressive, but at the same time, I'd just been pretty dumped and what would it cost for a good hooker for the night, a thousand? This is assuming it didn't get me the clap or in jail. In fact, it had to be cheaper than a visit to my lawyer, which I was thankfully over with. When I thought it over, I decided I could set up a webcam from my laptop and take a cool video of some domme taking me to her clips site and selling me a bunch of videos. I might even like the videos and find them worth at least some of the cost. More than likely she'd just browse my porn on my computer and laugh at me, costing me nothing. It was tempting, even at its worst, so I looked around the net for someone who was into it. It was a kind of interpersonal thing, but the computer component to it had me thinking not so much. If it got too bad I'd just pull the plug. There was PCANYWHERE, LOGMEIN, RADMIN, GOTOMYPC and TEAMVIEWER, as well as some others. I noticed a lot of references to teamviewer when I googled teamviewer and femdom together, so I did a web search and found a personal site with a e-mail to a Mistress Becky. Out of all the sites I visited, she hadn't looked all that professional, was a little overweight and not overdressed. There weren't any pictures of dungeons with plastic bricks and equipment on her page. It seemed kind of normal, other than the usual list of likes and a reference to how much she enjoyed money slaves and Teamviewer. I wanted femdom, but I didn't want someone slick. Becky was a brunette, maybe forty, large breasts, but large everything else as well, maybe two hundred pounds. She sat in front of a computer, and had a couple of cheesy shots, one of her sitting at a computer, but another in ankle boots and a mid-length dress, like a governess. I sent an e-mail, and realized the chances of her actually responding were between slight and none. Probably she was retired from playing domme; these ladies didn't do this forever. Teamviewer was easy to get. I had that loaded in five minutes tops. It seemed easy to work, just from browsing. You had this access word and then you put in a password yourself. The access word was how someone found your computer, and the password was how they were allowed in. You just gave each number to whoever needed in, usually to do repairs. With both numbers, a person could be on your computer and pretty much do whatever you did on the computer. Should I try another site and send another e-mail? I decided that was just spreading the pain. I only wanted to make that cool video and beat-off to it for the next ten years. Shoot, I almost came just sending the e-mail. I didn't want ten women hitting me up for a shopping trip on the web, so I left it at that and wavered from regretting it and wanting it like on a cycle of ten seconds each. I went back to looking at porno sites, and even pulled up a short story I was in the process of writing about sissy maids and wives. After a while I thought I should go to my e-mail server and list Becky as spam, given I'd done all that on a whim and was siding on regretting the impulse already. Maybe I should try some chat? I was single, why not. I pulled up my web cam. I already had the one on my laptop on, it off to the side, looking at my keyboard and computer, and pretty well focused; it was a good one with zoom, mostly on my desktop screen and keyboard. I was letting it roll, thinking about pruning it if anything neat happened. But, I turned on my old, clunky webcam on my desktop and tries to figure out how chat channels worked on the newer operating systems. "YOU'VE GOT MAIL! Oh wow, probably spam. I pulled up the mail, and there was Becky. My heart raced as I read: *** Hi, Joe. Got your e-mail, boy. You're on for some fun, huh. I'm not too busy and kind of itching to add another lackey to my boytoys. Are you available right now? If so, send me an e-mail back, or send a chat on messenger. Tell me a few short things about what turns you on. I'm waiting for you, slave. I'd love to take ownership over you and pry into your personal life. Hee hee. Mistress Becky *** That sounded kind of like a nice lady. It sort of eased my mind, to tell you the truth. Alright, I was game. I sent an e-mail back: *** I'm kind of new to this. What kind of thing do you do? I like to play maid from time to time, but don't have any experience. Mistress. Slave Joe. *** Two minutes later, I got this reply: If you want to Teamviewer, I have the software and can play for a while. You did mention it, my sissy. I kind of take over and browse. Men find it thrilling, knowing I have so much control. See their little secrets. Look at their porn. Make them do what I want them to do. Or do it for them. Do you want to be controlled, Joe? Do you want to give up control of your computer to a sadistic bitch, slave? I think you do. I think you can't help it. I think you're going to send me what I want now. I want your Teamviewer number and password. Don't play around or I'm ending these e-mails. You know you want to do it. Don't make me mad. Mistress Becky. *** Wow, that had me hot. She really wanted to do it. She wanted to dominate me through my computer. Oh well, it wasn't my good laptop, so what could she really do? I brought up the Teamviewer program. Taking some breaths, I sent an e-mail back, giving her my numbers: 356 219 844 Password: 30fgea When I hit send, I almost shit myself. Good God, what had I just done. Time went by. Five, ten, fifteen seconds. After half a minute, I thought maybe she was just fooling with me and maybe wouldn't do this odd thing that promised to really put me into subspace. All of a sudden, remote access showed on Teamviewer. I moved my mouse, but someone else seemed to move it next. I decided to let her have it, and see what was going on. She moved it to Start, then programs, and brought up messenger chat. A window came up, which she moved to the far right of the screen. Next I knew, a camera view materialized. I'd never used any of that stuff, but I realized I was looking at Becky. *** She typed:" Hi there, slave. I'm in. Joe: Gee, I'm kind of nerveous. Becky:Mistress. Joe: Yes, Mistress Becky. Becky:Better, slave. Joe: So, how does this work? Becky:Easy. I'm going to poke around and you're going to be very embarrassed. Joe: Yes, Mistress Becky. Becky:Good. Now I'll set Teamviewer up and poke around. You sit tight with your hands on your prick, slave. You can to that, can't you, slave? Joe:Yes, Mistress. Becky:Good boy. *** The mouse moved to Teamviewer's Extras and then Option tag. A menu came down. She clicked on the icon for bringing up Teamviewer with windows. A menu showed saying Configure Permanent Access. Eight dots typed in, and then eight more where the menu asked to repeat the password. The Cursor hit OK, and the menu window disappeared. A new window showed, Permanent Access Configured. You can access this computer using, 356219844 and the access number you've just defined. She clicked OK for that too, and the menu disappeared. Security tab was hit next. Beside Windows Login, Allowed for Administrators Only was picked. I noticed Full Access was showing in a second window, but to be honest, I really didn't notice the details of any of this until I played back the video of it later from my laptop. At the time I was looking at the highlights and at the cam shot of Becky hovering over her keyboard, looking up at her screen, and licking her lips as if in concentration. The fact is, she did all of this pretty fast. The lady definitely knew what she was doing. So far I'd just seen the fact that she'd made Teamviewer open with Windows, put in a permanent password to gain access and set it up for administrator use. I wasn't too sure what that meant. I was horny though. I had to slow down with my dick or I'd have cum right then. A woman was playing around in my computer. It didn't seem all that big a deal though. I'd not even had Teamviewer a few minutes earlier. Who cared if she messed it up. She opened Advanced Options and clicked on Disallow Teamviewer Shutdown and Accept from Trusted Accounts. Obviously she wanted the program to come up and stay. I didn't want to turn it off, that's for sure. I was digging the domination so far, trying to take it all in as fast as I could. That menu dropped, but she brought it back up and hit a new menu item that mysteriously showed saying (and it happened so fast I didn't see it until I watched the playback), Full Access Control When a Partner is Connected to the Window's Login Screen. That dropped really quickly as she scrolled the sidebar to that menu down. After moving the bar, more stuff showed down below. Under Teamviewer Options, Changes Require Administrative Rights on this Computer was clicked, and a password inserted. Once again, the password only showed as dots and she had to repeat it, but she had good typing skills and in no time at all, hit OK. The menu screen dropped out entirely. *** She went over to the messenger screen and started typing: Becky:I'm just setting up Teamviewer so I can use it. You've been a very good boy, not interfering, slave. We're going to have lots of fun, I think. Joe: Yes, Mistress. I'm kind of freaking out. Becky: Well that's the point. I'm here to scare the shit out of you, slave. Why don't you lick your fingers and play with your titties for me? Joe:Yes, Mistress. (I did.) Becky:Oh, that's sweet. (Oh my God, she could see me. She must have activated my camera too.) Becky:Now, I'll just be fixing myself as a user, so I can play. Joe:Yes, Mistress Becky. Becky:Put those fingers on your sissy tits, Joe. I didn't say you could quit. There you go. That's a good little bitch. *** She moved right down to Start, the Run, then typed in CMD. A window opened up that reminded me of my old DOS days. It wasn't the kind of box I usually played with, being more of a computer user than programmer. She typed in: net user Becky * /add Password showed, but when she typed it in twice, not even the dots showed. She went right to typing, net localgroup administrators Becki /add A message showed, saying she'd been successful. *** Okay, I thought, so she's added herself as an administrator. That ought to make it easier for her to poke around, I figured. It seemed a bit over the top, but it was also hot. I wanted to touch my dick, but then I realized she was watching me, and it kind of felt embarrassing to know I'd been beating off before, when I didn't know that. I licked my fingers again and kept tormenting my nipples. *** Finally, she typed: net user Administrators * The password came and went twice, followed by the message, The command completed successfully. She followed that with: net user Joe * Again, the password typing was invisible. She typed: net localgroup administrators It showed Administrator Joe Becky *** Before I could read any more, the window went blank. I almost had a heartattack, thinking she'd destroyed the computer, but it came right back. She brought up the camera and messenger block, moved it to the right and wrote: Becky:I'll have to make you a user, Joe. Otherwise you'll not be able to log on and enjoy my new computer. Joe:??? What do you mean? Becky: Don't worry. I'm fixing you up so you can login. You can't use Joe anymore. It has a new password that I'm not letting you know. I prefer to give you a name more fitting your new station. Come on, you're going to love it, you slut. Joe:??? What do you m I kept typing, and nothing happened. My God, she'd somehow blocked my keyboard from working. Becky: Did I tell you to stop playing with your sissy nippled, slave? I started to type, but realized it was futile. I licked my fingers and started playing with my nipples again. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what had I gotten myself into? The computer was probably going to have to be trashed after this. In a way, thinking like that liberated me a little. I'd just let her fuck it up and destroy it when done. I didn't need it, and it was due a new one anyway, being three years old. She opened up that CMD line again, and typed: net localgroup administrators Joe /delete net user Beckyssissybitch * /add She typed in the password, taking her time on that, apparently. Over in the messenger screen she wrote: Becky: Your new password is. SissYmaid847229782cOcksucker20572047230RuInEDmoneyPiG89783541612938 Becky: You had better write that down before the screen moves past. Oh, the look on your face is precious. Come on, it's only a little work, typing it in. Slaves should be put to work, don't you think? I don't see you writing. I'd advise you get busy, slut. I grabbed a pen, and pulled some paper out of the printer. Becky:Do that while sucking your right thumb, slut. I did, and quickly spelled out with my left hand, SissYmaid847229782cOcksucker20572047230RuInEDmoneyPiG89783541612938. Becky: Don't forget it's case sensitive, bitch. I want to see your mouth saying, Yes Mistress Becky. That's better, bitch. Becky:Now I'm going to work a little more at keeping you in line, then we can get down to negotiating your new status in my stable of owned people. She went back to Start, Run, and typed, gpedit.msc. She hit Administrative, then Control Panel, and before I knew it, opened a screen, disabling access. From there it was Administrative Templates, System, Cnt-alt-del Options, remove task manager, and did that, whatever that did. It did blank the screen for a second, seemingly for some kind of windows reset. In the same Cnt-alt-del Options menu, she disabled some kind of Remove Computer Lock deal. Administrative Templates, Windows Component, Microsoft Management, Restricted Permitted, Computer Management, disable. *** I tried to type something in, but my keyboard was locked again. Becky:Alright, so we're going to start you off light. I'm going to look around my new computer and see what kind of filth you're into. She moved to start, then search, and typed in *.jpg. When a few showed, she found one that had a sexy name on it and right clicked up properties. Just like that she found the folder under which I had all my porn. Two windows popped up, and she grabbed my main porn folder and moved it over to the window on the right. The little flying folder started yanking it over. Next she found doc files and all sorts of personal correspondents and business information copied over to one of her folders, which I began to realize were on her computer and not mine. What all was in that, I wondered, daring not to think of it. Teamviewer Enslavement Ch. 02 What could I do to reverse the damage, was my first thought. On the other hand, I wasn't too sure what damage had occurred. Could I just cut her off? Maybe the thing to do was to play along. She had implied she wanted to play a little more, and she's said she wanted to start me off light. Maybe I could explain my limits and she'd hit me for something small and we'd be done? She was probably a little afraid too. You never know what kind of crazies are on the other end, particularly if you're a woman. Yeah, that was probably true. While feeling my heart drop and my pulse shimmy, I also felt the onset of horniness. I was always horny in the morning, and as I sat there in my t-shirt and jeans, looking at a blank screen that said my computer was on standby, I decided to man up and just find out what next. I hit the buttons, seeing the screen come back up. Login showed, including the names, Administrator, Becki and Beckyssissybitch. I picked the first, and tried no password, which was how it used to be, but it gave an error indication. There was no choice but to select Beckyssissybitch and type the password: SissYmaid847229782cOcksucker20572047230RuInEDmoneyPiG89783541612938 My desktop came up, and it looked a lot different. At first I thought it was broken because only a handful of icons graced the field. I tried to go to my computer, and couldn't even find the icon off the start button. That folder full of dicks though, it was still there, and all the photos easily pulled up. What exactly had we done? My laptop's camera had captured most of it, so I spun about in my chair and checked out the video of our online session. The replay of that was pretty intense, causing me to miss her logging on. "What are you looking at, Joe?" Somehow, the speakers on my desktop had turned to high. Her face showed in the right, top corner of the screen I spun back. "Sorry, Mistress Becky. Just doing some work." "That's alright. Did you have fun, last night?" I typed, "Very much. But, I was wondering if you are open to talking about limits? I'm not a very rich guy, and—" "You can speak into your microphone." "Oh, sorry. I'm used to typing," I said. "Better. Now, limits? I suppose we can work from that." I wanted more, but I decided to settle for compromise. "Thank you, Mistress Becky." If she saw me as normal, we could maybe be more like normal, I decided. She had on a bathrobe, I, of course, noticed. Her cleavage and skin below even that, split all the way down past the edge of the desk. I was glad I was in jeans, and didn't look like an idiot, as I suppose I had last night, wearing only jockeys under the table's edge. "What sort of work do you do, Joe?" "I'm an auditor. That's like accounting, only with a better license." "Pays well?" "Not too well. Enough to pay my bills, I suppose." Best to lie about that, though I'd implied more the night before. Maybe she didn't know what CPAs like me made. "Uh-huh. I do flowers." "Really?" "Yes. My business is to package and deliver them for my area. You know those online flower businesses that deliver by a certain day." I nodded. "Well, they need someone to put the flowers together like they're shown in the ads, then deliver them." "Sounds like a nice, local business model." "For me. I even get health insurance, and can either do it myself, or hire someone for the deliveries." "Good for you. I see that as highly industrious." "Not as great as a job like yours. Skills like yours are in demand. I bet you do most your work at home, like me, though, huh." She smiled and adjusted the brightness of the camera showing her face. "I do. As long as I don't have to go pick up someone's ledgers or go drum up new clients. Mostly it's just me and my software, data flowing through the pipeline and knowing which columns to park the numbers." "Whow, you're really an intelligent person. I get so many dorks trying to hit me up. Did most people in your college flunk out or go for something easier?" "Lots, yeah." "Are you single? Not that I'm being forward or anything. I know I'm not the prettiest woman on the internet." She winked. "You're very attractive, and I wasn't lying when I thought your business idea was industrious." "Oh, you're so nice. Thank you for saying that. It's good to occasionally meet somebody nice." "You're welcome," I replied, smiling back. This was going well. What a strange way to meet a reasonable lady. She was way easier to get along with than my ex, and though a little on the heavy side. I was a bit overweight too, so... "Do you live near Pittsburgh?" "One state over. We're almost neighbors." She laughed. I smiled and took a breath. "Well, stand up, Joe. Let me take a look at you. No, me first." She stood, and I could see her prance back from her table. The nightgown was almost sheer, so I saw a good deal of round breasts and I realized I'd been wrong. Not two hundred, but maybe only a hundred and seventy. She was chesty. She sat. "You now." I stood. She moved her head around in the little camera screen, seemingly looking at my butt. Sure enough, she said, "Nice butt," and laughed. I turned, up near the desk, about to reach back and pull the chair back up. She said, "You can't focus these computer cameras. I hate that. Step back, Joe, I want to get a screen snap of all of you. Like you saw of me." I did. "Joe...." "Anderson." "I knew that. I've seen your computer, remember. Just wanted to see if you was the secretive type. I meet married men all the time, who never fess up." She chuckled. I grabbed for the chair, which had wheeled behind me some. "Hold it a second, Joe. Just say your whole name, and where you're from, so I can get a video of you talking. I meet crazy guys, and I want insurance, in case we meet. And you end up a slasher. Oh, and what you do for a living might also help." "Alright, Joe Anderson, I'm safe, from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I do auditing, mostly at home. "Don't forget your address. I know it anyway." Hummm. That was true, I suppose. Makes dating easier, should she come over, I imagined. "Living at 12746 Roam Oak Highway." "The whole thing, come on, Joe, and add who you're saying this for." "Alright." I took a deep breath. "My name is Joe Anderson. I live at 12746 Roam Oak Highway, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and work as an auditor, mostly from home. I'm making this video for Miss Becky, whose last name I've not yet had the privilege of acquiring." "Very nice. Now, that's out in the sticks, my mapquest says, but nice homes, I noticed. You know, you move the little man out on the street, and you can see it, even though there's big farmer sized lots and lots of privacy trees." She smiled. "Thanks. I feel safer. Now, come up close to the desk. Turn a little so I can see your butt. I always wanted a butt shot of a good looking guy in jeans." A second camera window popped up under hers, showing me. It looked pretty crisp for a computer camera video shot. I laughed, and stepped up close, turned around then moved back to the desk, facing the front. "Oh, perfect. I can see your bulge. Hope saying that didn't embarrass you, sweetheart." She seemed to blush. Then her face changed to a more serious expression. "Now, piss your pants, Joe Anderson, rich-boy, auditor smartass from Pittsburgh Pennsylvania, living in a nice house with a big lot and lots of trees." ### I felt my face go flush. I think my heart stopped beating a few times around. "Pee those pants, now. Come on. Get going. I'm losing patience with you, piss slut." "But, I--" "Who is the slave, and who is the mistress. If you want limits, you have to give me something. Otherwise, what's the point?" "Sorry, Mistress Becky." "There you go, a little baby amount of respect. I can't believe we've been talking fifteen whole fucking minutes, and you finally realize who the mistress and who the piss boy is." "Sorry, Mistress. I really as just trying to--" "Well, if you want to impress me...." Oh, shit, she was serious. I looked down at my beltline. Shit. "Goddamnit. Can't you even piss? What good are you. We'll have to go to something more severe, if we can't do limits. It was your idea. You said, can be talk about limits. So, I thought, do something simple. Well, if you can't do it, I can think of something really fun. For me." "No, no. I'll do it. I just have to work it up... Mistress Becky." "Those pants had better be completely soaked, beltline to shoes, in the next, ten, nine, eight... seven... six and a half, six... four... two... one and a half--" "Oh, shit." I started peeing. I had no choice. And because I'd woken and kept a hard-on, the top of my jeans soaked fast. I felt like cutting it off, but remembered what she'd said about doing it right, or there being consequences, and just let it all out. Yeah, I'd been nervous, and yeah, I really had needed to pee, so it soaked and soaked, tinkling down the inside of my right leg more than the left, but quickly a good nine or ten inches across and all the way from my belly to wetting a sock. I soon felt it squishy in my tennis shoes. After all that, I just stood there, red-faced, and feeling my dick and balls getting cold from the warm urine starting to cool. "Pissing your pants like a little boy. You're disgusting, Joe. Or is it Joe? What was the name I came up with for you, last night, Joe? I mean, the one I assigned you to remember because I own your computer and can ruin your life?" "Beckyssissybitch, Mistress Becky." "Oh, I can't see your face. Sit. Sit in your pee, like a baby. Get that nice office chair nice and smelly-wet. That a good bedwetter. Now, say that again." "Beckyssissybitch, Mistress Becky." "Good. You can remember something. For a dumb-assed college boy, I was wondering for a moment. Now, let's take a long look at your new password for getting into my new computer. You can use your cheat-sheet for this, Joe. What's the new password? Say it back to me." "Oh, this is terrible. I didn't mean to ask for all this. I really do like you, Miss Becky." "I thought we respected one another, Joe. Now you're being stupid. You asked to do something limited. Is this really hard? You're in your own house, nobody's watching. I own your ass. Everything on your computer is in my external hard drive as we speak. I could be doing just about anything. Maybe even put you in jail, for all I know. God knows what I'd find if I looked close enough. Every relative, every employer, every account.... If you're not going to honor the spirit of limits, then I'm going to have to--" "No, no, no, I'm sorry, Mistress Becky. You're right. I'm just not in the headspace, but for you, I'll do it anyway. You have every right to be upset, Mistress. It must be frustrating, doing the hard work you do." "Better, but I'm not hearing anything. In fact, I think you should start over. Name, where you live, what you do, maybe stand a moment, show me your wet diaper, comment about how much you enjoy pissing your panties, then your new name. Add something to surprise me, about here. Then, how much you like pissing yourself all the time. Then we can start by going over your password, part by part. Make it natural, like it's your idea. Which, incidentally, it was when you said, limits." "Yes, of course, Mistress Becky. I'm so stupid." "Yes, so let's practice. Start with the last part, the password. It has three fun, phrases in it. I just want to hear you say how much you enjoy your new password." "Okay, Mistress. Umm, Sissy maid 847229--" "No, no, no. Not like that. Say, in my password is the phrase, sissy maid. I chose it because... then you adlib the rest. This is all about you, Joe. You're the one, after all, who contacted me last night and said you wanted to play. Break the password down, piece by piece, and maybe even add in some information about you contacting me, and what I did to your computer and how you proposed limits, but after all the stuff I specifically asked you to prepare for your little speech today. Ready?" I swallowed hard, trying to remember everything. I was worried I'd forget something, and decided to take it slow, and maybe embellish. If I did, she'd be happy, and respect this as a limit. It was harsh, but I could do it, I decided. Then we'd be done, and well, over time she'd come around, and maybe even date me. I did like her. We had struck up a rapport, hadn't we? "I'm ready," I said. "Good. Now, I'm not going to interrupt. Depending upon how well you do, I'll either add things and make you do it again, or just go to something a lot harsher. We're trying to work within limits today, and respect that." "Yes ma'am." She didn't respond, only stared at me harshly, and while sitting back in her chair. The screen of my, that had been under hers was gone. "Ummm. I'm making this video today because I want to say... (oh, this was going badly) My name is Joe Anderson. I'm an auditor who lives at 12746 Roam Oak Highway, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Um, I'm five feet, nine, and weight a hundred and ninety pounds. I just got divorced, and...." I stood. "I just pissed myself. I do this all the time because I... uh... enjoy it." I sat down. This sounded really bad, I realized. "Okay, I have picked a new computer name for when I log onto Mistress Becky's computer. It's Becky's Sissy Bitch. I really like the new name. It has a ring to it. And, my new password is several words or phrases mixed up with numbers." I swallowed hard. I think my head felt swimming some. "The password's first phrase," and I read, "is, sissy maid. I like to pretend I'm a submissive shemale, sometimes, when I'm horny. And the next phrase is," I read it off the sheet, and almost couldn't say the words: "cocksucker." When in deep subspace, I imagine myself able to do that, though I'm heterosexual, which is probably why it feels so submissive to me. Men who don't like men are embarrassed most by thinking along those lines. "Finally, the last phrase in the password is... " I glared up at the video box inhabited by Mistress Becky. She rolled her eyes, and kicked, judging from the way her body jerked. "Ahum. The last phrase is ruined money pig. I, I, I, I, occasionally fantasize that someone will b, bl, blll, blackmail--I suppose is one way of thinking of it--blackmail me into doing things, or paying for small gifts for a... few days. It's kind of a head game that makes me feel used, which is important for men into sexual slavery fantasy moments. This doesn't last, and I've never actually...." She started typing, I noticed. The little typing window showed someone then came up, "ADLIB." She kept typing. I added, "I am submissive, lots of times. I am also—" "Start that password speech over, and make it clear that you love all those things and want them, or you'll be sucking dick and giving me your last dime by this time tomorrow!!!!!" "Shit." I looked up at the screen. "I mean, I am a sissy maid. I enjoy cleaning the house, while dressed in panties, and an apron." Fuck it, I told myself. I was in way too deep to not just continue. "I like to suck cock. And, I want to be a ruined, money pig, blackmailed and degraded by an authoritative mistress." She typed, "A lot!" "I want it a lot. I crave being fucked in the ass and mouth, and wallet raped until I'm ruined." On the other side of the computer, she clapped. The sound came back up. "Very nice, Joe. I tell you what, I'm going to edit that so the little mistakes are cut out, and leave it on my desktop for you to enjoy and contemplate until this evening, say around six. You can get some work done between now and then because I'm leaving the parental controls open for you. And, of course, you can use your other computer." "Yes, Mistress Becky." I felt totally defeated. "Between now and then though, I want you to write a two thousand word essay on why you are so appreciative that I'm going to help you become a suck cocking faggot for me. Watch the clock, because once every half hour, you're to go get another sixteen ounces of water, coffee, cola, whatever suits you. See, I'm being nice, and not letting you dehydrate. Then, at exactly the top of each hour, you stand in front of my camera, smile, repeat the same speech you just gave, only better each time, and pee your little pansy pants again. This is going to go on all day. You're not going out for lunch, taking a shower or changing your pissy faggot pants. I imagine your chair will end up ruined, but we'll fix that later." "Ummm." I'd thought about arguing, but it was useless. Fuck, this was crazy. But, what could I do. She had so much on me. And, I needed to do this, if for no other reason, than to keep the limits to something reasonable. And to keep it just between her and I and not go to external extremes. "Yes, Mistress Becky," I sadly said, almost as a sigh. "Leave the little cocksucker spew on my desktop, since you are a slave user my computer now, and aren't allowed by it's mistress to use the folders. Only the mistress, who is playing this little limits game, and who isn't a cock-sucking sissy-maid pay-piggy, can use those folders now." She left her chair. I waited. When she came back, it looked like she was doing something else. She even started talking, as if to another person. "Shit." I'd been dismissed. Then she looked right at me, and held her head cantered, as if warning. I jumped out of my wet cushioned seat and made a sixteen ounce glass of water, while putting on a huge pot of coffee. What choice did I have, if I wanted her to not get mad and take me past this limit, which was disgusting, but I'd already done it, so...? Then I came back to my desk and started doing my work. Off in the corner, on the desktop computer, Mistress Becky brought a box of flowers to the opposite bench, and started making vases. Damn, she'd not lied about having a normal life. But, what did I have? Seven o'clock struck faster than I'd hoped. I had no choice, if I was going to limit the damage, and not entice her to do worse to me. I stood, and stepped back, so the camera could see all of me. I said: "My new computer name is Becky's Sissy Bitch. I really like the new name. It has a ring to it that makes me happy. My new password is several words or phrases mixed up with numbers, just so I can work at remembering it for Mistress Becky. The password contains the phrase, sissy maid. I want to be a submissive slut who cleans for her mistress. When I'm horny, I imagine myself sucking cock for my mistress. The last phrase in the password is ruined money pig. I am a blackmailed paypig. These phrases help me become a better slave. I imagine sucking cock to please my mistress. I crave being fucked in the ass and mouth, and used like a whore..." I stepped closer to the table, looked down at the cold and dark smear of my foul-smelling pants, and warmed the wetness until empty. Oh God, what next, I wondered, as I sat in my soaked chair and tried to concentrate on my work.