4 comments/ 5520 views/ 2 favorites Aching for Completion Ch. 01 By: Plusher John was conflicted, he came from a traditional background but had always felt like the odd one out, the black sheep if you like. He had spent his adult life trying to be 'normal' especially in relation to his drives and desires, people who thought like him were inclined to be labelled as perverts in the working class community he lived in so he tried repeatedly to 'fit in'. Don't misunderstand on the surface he was a normal looking guy, dressed in everyday clothes, tidy hair, not one to really stand out in a crowd but he thought and felt differently to those around him. John liked shiny things, he had a weakness for the sort of skinny trashy women with spray tans and tiny clothes who hang around bars and nightclubs on a weekend drinking their own weight in vodka and taking strangers into alleys for a quick fuck or blow job - dirty sluts - except they weren't, not really, not when the novelty wore off. One or two trick ponies who soon tired of his "weird requests", happy to play the game for a few weeks or months but not interested in talking, building scenarios, investing themselves in the relationship just that little bit deeper and opening up to him in the way he needs. Just bright promiscuous butterflies, pretty to watch and catch every now and then but too long in the jar and they'd fade; sweet and hollow like a honeycomb. John was getting to the age where he'd chased the butterflies so many times he could almost predict exactly what they'd say in any given circumstance. Recently he'd met a cheeky young girl of about 20 in a club who seemed very familiar, very welcomingly familiar; who'd let him finger fuck her at the bar, riding his hand inside her tiny thong while they went through the getting to know you stage - you know, the flirty part before the alleyway stage. Just as she'd agreed to go outside with him her friend came across to say she needed to come with them as her mum needed taking home, John looked over to where the friend was gesturing and realised why this particular young floozy was so familiar, her mother, a woman his age who he'd fucked many times in the past 10 years, was being carried out of the club and she was a leathery carbon copy of her daughter; down to the micro skirt with tiny thong, tramp stamp style tattoos, spray tan, pierced navel and scraped back high pony tail. This shocked John, momentarily stopped him in his tracks - was this all he could look forward to now, the relentless churn of meaningless pleasure seeking? Five years earlier he'd have taken mum and daughter back to his house and fucked them both, revelling in the fact that he could but now the prospect just depressed him. John had spells in his life where he had long term relationships but they never lasted - the butterflies somehow turned back into caterpillars growing fat and complacent until suddenly years have passed and they are both so fucking bored! She because she'd got fat and dowdy and he because he wasn't fulfilled in the relationship, still burying his deep needs and true nature, unable to share his soul for fear of rejection. John then retreated to the cyber world where he could enact some of his desires - but again that was not enough, mostly the women he encountered in BDSM chatrooms were just as hollow as the butterflies but in a different way. There were older ones pretending to be young, fat ones pretending to be thin and since the interminable rise in popularity of '50 shades of grey' lots of boring ones in search of safe anonymous access to "kinky fuckery" - John hated that term and quietly despised these desperate housewives who wanted to call him Mr Grey as he typed how he'd tie them up and cyber fuck their faces. But hey, some were interesting and creative with their fantasies and in the end any hole's a goal right? Even a cyber one. John had experimented with swinging in the past also, located a discrete club in a city 40 miles from home and gone along to be the extra prick at the party for many married couples - he was proud of his stamina, if the head thrill was there he could go for hours and the sweaty semi-darkness filed with gasps, grunts, groans and squelching certainly provided the head thrill...for a while. The club held regular dungeon nights and he'd watch with amusement as paunchy middle aged men lightly flogged their horny wives while they were strapped to a cross or a over horse while two others spit roasted her - kinky on the surface but really just vanilla in a different dress . John wondered how they'd react if he offered to show them how he'd treat the slut - bind her tits tight to her ribcage, arms immobilised behind her back, fasten clamps and chain to her nipples then lead her around the club by the chain inviting anyone who wanted to stop them to inspect her running slut hole, to examine the filthy whore who craves this pain and humiliation, look how wet she is the shameless cunt - letting anyone insert anything they liked into her asshole, lap at her juices, ram their cocks down her throat, before leading her back to the dungeon to be spread on the rack so he could violently rape her greedy slutty asshole while cropping her bound tits; making her cum like she never had before, like a cum hungry whore - but he knew deep down it would never happen here - those things he needed; the actions he described to his online subs. John concluded that most 'sub' women he met were merely interested in cheap thrills, a means to spice up their dull everyday lives and he was just the right tool for the job...sometimes. John had once encountered someone online, Lisa, who seemed more 'real' than the others, her fantasies were wild and spoke to him of a deeper need for the escapism offered by BDSM plus a true understanding of how it felt to "belong" to a Dom. They had fallen into the habit of meeting online every night, scening in public in the BDSM rooms, her avatar mouseover told anyone who wanted to know that she was 'Lord John's cumslut for consensual use - apply to my Master for permission' he felt proud of his online sub, she was creative and potentially the most filthy minded woman he'd ever met. They also talked privately about their lives and discovered much in common regarding TV, music, film and books and discussed their needs to actually live rather than just go through the motions. She'd had had a formative experience when 19 with a boyfriend who wanted them to experiment, he had some vintage rubber and bondage porn mags from the 1950s that he'd found in the rafters of his dad's shed and they had wild fun trying out tying up and being tied. She'd developed a talent for disciplining this boyfriend, experienced a deep addictive electric thrill from his cries as she trussed his cock and balls tight with twine or attached clothes pegs to his erect nipples or cropped his hard muscly ass. Later a different boyfriend had pulled her hair and brutally fucked her mouth while she was hogtied and filled cunt and ass by dildos. All of this thrilled her, set her inner core afire but nothing lasting came of it as she too craved normality with a later husband and kids - a husband who was the very definition of vanilla and her online forays served as an antidote to this. John's online relationship with Lisa had frightened him somewhat, she seemed almost too perfect, did he dare hope the she could be the person he'd always longed for - a willing sub, depraved and creative; she seemed to be able see right into his soul and read his mind. She explained to him her belief that the sub is the one truly in control and how without the sub's consent the Dom or Domina is just an angry person with the raging horn - John could see some truth in this theory and marvelled that she bothered to think about such things in such depth, evidence that she didn't just wear the lifestyle like a t-shirt she could change at will; demonstrating her need to really FEEL the thrills of submission and dominance.John and Lisa met several times in real life - the chemistry held true, they fucked and played and when he turned his warm authoritative gaze on her she blushed as her heart raced. John respected Lisa, admired her deep thinking analytical mind, her kind heart and her loyalty; as she explained if she identified a kindred spirit she felt so protective of them, of their uniqueness for attempting to swim upstream - but for John the spell was broken, he'd built his expectations too high and the 'real' Lisa with her soft roundness, her huge droopy mummy's breasts and pasty white flesh just didn't turn him on physically, he'd never been a chubby chaser. Gradually their online fun dried up, Lisa quit the chatrooms and he deleted her emails; shortly afterwards John started a relationship with an exotic foreign girl who while vanilla in her sexual tastes was thrilling in her cultural differences - could this be the combination he needed? They travelled together for a while, her difference thrilled him, they then married and John quit his online exploits - for good this time he promised. Time passed and John realised that his marriage, like every other long term relationship he'd had was just too normal - it was enough to drive him insane like an itch that cannot be reached - too normal or just too fucking out there with the soulless hedonists and sex trend fakers - no middle ground. After six years John's marriage finally broke down and he moved out on his own; a decent broadband connection and cheap rent being his priorities in the search for a new home, online kinkiness drawing him in like mother's milk; John surfed a wave of frustration at his needs tempered by the familiar twitch in his pants that the cyber unknown gave him. John clothed himself in an avatar for his dominant on-screen persona, scouring the net for just the right photo, the dapper gent of indeterminate age with a stern but yet warm expression, dark eyes gazing out from the screen looking right into the heart of the viewer; selected his favourite adult chat site and logged on. It felt good to be back, right somehow - there were odd names he recognised from the past but the main difference he noticed was how fast paced the rooms now seemed to be, instant gratification and move on but still quite a few like minded people to chat to. About 4 weeks in on a Saturday evening he noticed a new female avatar appear in one of the rooms he was logged into, a curvy supine topless belly dancer with tits like soccer balls and aureolae the size of saucers; the face of the model caught his attention, piercing blue eyes staring straight from the screen, a wry knowing smile playing about her lips, an open sexy expression. The avatar pic was too big, hogging the screen so John quickly copied, resized and then saved the new version to a photo hosting website and privately messaged the belly dancer with a link to the newly sized photo - the belly dancer thanked him publicly in the room for the new dress, calling him Sir and lowering her virtual eyes as a mark of respect to the authority of his screen persona; John smiled to himself, always happy to talk with someone who took time to play the game the old fashioned way and responded with a compliment on how the new dress suited her so. The belly dancer hit back immediately thanking Sir for his kind words, but then she recalled he'd always had excellent taste. John's heart leapt, could it be Lisa? After all this time? Immediately he switched to private messaging and asked if he'd known her before perhaps? After a long moment the belly dancer responded "hello John, how've you been?" astounded John grinned from ear to ear and they chatted just like old times. It transpired that Lisa was in the chatroom as part of a task set by her current husband who is also her Dom, she explained that shortly after they last spoke online 7 years prior she had joined a BDSM dating site in a last ditch attempt to find 'the one' promising herself that if she wasn't successful in a month she'd bury that part of herself forever and resign herself to a vanilla life with her boring staid husband of the time. Within the first week she'd spotted him, his profile was clunkily written, real sounding, no slick pat promises, no flowery words, just honesty about his boredom and frustration with his current lot, his passion for rough sex, bondage and domination, his pic looked hot and backed up his claim to be tall and fit so she'd sent him a wink and when he responded they took the chat to msn. The rest was basically history and 3 months later she'd split with her boring husband and begun regular meetings with her current husband. They'd had a long distance relationship for a couple of years before he moved in and had talked every day on the phone, they'd taken their time to get to know one another deeply which had led to mutual trust, respect and so naturally love. John was amazed to hear Lisa's story and also about how she had now managed to mesh an apparently normal everyday life with the BDSM lifestyle; he realised he was also very jealous. John questioned Lisa about her current task and was told that her husband was working away that weekend but he'd ordered her to go to online chat and cyberfuck whoever took her fancy but to save screenshots for his arousal and as proof she'd done the task - she could not orgasm no matter how much she wanted to and at the peak of her arousal she should put on her latex rubber double dildo panties under a vanilla outfit and take a trip out to to do food shopping whilst he called her on the phone and kept the heat up as she wiggled around the store. She told John she expected to be ordered to pick out a cute boy shop assistant to flash a little nipple at, nothing vulgar, just enough to make him blush and that if she did the shopping task well enough she'd be allowed to mount the corner of the kitchen table at home and get off on the double dildos in the rubber pants, topless, her huge tits swinging and bouncing while her husband directed her via Skype from a laptop screen at the opposite side of the table. The final part of the task being to make sure she came hard enough to get him off remotely - if she failed she'd be sure to get a good spanking when he came home. Lisa confided that she sometimes failed remote tasks on purpose...and so did her husband, which revelation made John laugh. Lisa explained to John that most of the time they led a normal life and yes they fought just like any other married couple and had all the usual boring stresses and strains but it only took a certain intensely lustful look, a deep soulful kiss or a hair pulling or nipple tweak in passing to reduce her innards to jelly and cause her to submit to anything he wanted. Lucky, lucky bastard John replied. She also explained that her husband loved her creamy flesh and revelled in her plushness, she would often strip for him while he stroked and lubed his cock, twerking her wobbly ass in his face like a lap dancer until he would pin her to the bed holding both wrists in one huge hand above her head and rub his thick erection all over her fleshy folds and mammoth juggs until he exploded covering her in copious thick ropes of jism. Then while still hard he'd bang her like a train til she shouted out her orgasm; finally she would lick every trace of their combined juices from him before they fell asleep. John slept fitfully that night, dreaming of the scenarios Lisa had described. He'd always enjoyed voyeurism and felt he'd been let back in to her world in some way; he was envious yet inspired. The next day in the chatroom John and Lisa caught up on more news and she shared details of the contact site she'd used and messaged him an idea for what he should say when he wrote his profile. He should be honest about what he wanted - a lifestyle partner rather than a series of casual encounters and advised him to use the contact site's chat rooms occasionally too but most importantly to read what subs were saying in their profiles and look between the lines - she also urged him that it wasn't a race; she'd been freakishly lucky to find her soulmate and have it turn out the way it had, but he should take his time as he had nothing to lose. Lisa then logged off as her hubby was finally home and she would find out if she'd passed or failed her shopping task. John stretched back in his chair and quietly copied the lines Lisa had sent him into a word document...just incase... Aching for Completion Ch. 02 John joined the BDSM contact site, he wrote a thoughtful profile including the phrases Lisa had given him; chose a nice classy anonymous profile photo and set about compiling a hotlist of suitable members to contact. John sent winks and emails via the site, used the live chat and instant messaging features to build himself a network. One local-ish slut seemed friendly and another keen to meet in person but heeding Lisa's advice John was taking time to build a rapport with them before committing to the inevitable magnetic sexual pull of physical proximity, he didn't trust himself to resist that particular appeal just yet. He was still frequenting his regular BDSM chat site and inspired by his resolve to find 'the one' made a new avatar; a grainy black and white image of a sub girl knelt in front of her master featuring the phrase; 'It's not the chains that keep the girl, it's the fact she doesn't want the key' so far the new avatar was working attracting on-line subs for role play but none local....yet. Lisa would pop into the chat room every now and then to see how he was doing, her screen name appearing in the 'Gang Bang' room one Sunday afternoon sporting a new avatar made from a GIF of a huge breasted porn star laying on her back titty fucking a monster cock; the GIF utilised the few frames featuring the copious cum shot and the look of mild shock and happiness on the porn star's face as she was gifted a luxuriant pearl necklace. John smiled and shook his head, Lisa it seemed was enjoying her chatroom rebirth, but then she had always been an attention seeker. The room was busy that day, the rain bounced down outside John's window and from the spread of folks logged on it looked like it may be raining all over the world. A hot anal sex scene was playing out in public in the chatroom between a young female and a middle aged man, both of whom John was vaguely acquainted with, who were weaving a compelling narrative in graphic detail: she - As you hold her hips and push into her ass with your thick, hard penis, her fingers spread against the floorboards, so that she sustains the weight of you both...the floor boards start to make a low, aching sound as you insert yourself in her fully and your hips start to slowly grind in deep, elaborate motions. Due to having previously fucked her, your penis is slathered in her wet cunt juices, making the strokes so frictionless and easy now. Her ass gets wetter and wetter as you slowly slide yourself backwards and forwards through her sphincter, causing the moisture to spread with her growing heat, and she can feel you thrusting faster and faster. She groans with a mixture of pleasure and pain, as you press her face against the floorboards, and control her head 'Urgghhhh...yes Sir'. Your hard hips collide repetitively with her buttocks as you pound into her, really starting to fuck her...you feel thick and heavy inside her, much thicker and heavier due to her tightness. When you slide yourself into her at the maximum depth you'll reach, her ass is cupped around the very root of your hard cock......you seem to consume all the remaining and available space inside her, making her feel tight and invaded; so full of you. The rhythmic slap of your hips slamming hard against her again and again can be heard loud and clear, like a metronome. She's completely supporting the weight of your body as you mercilessly pound her from behind. Because of how thick you are, and due to the force you use on her, the strokes become smoother and smoother; there's less and less resistance inside her...she feels soft and coated with cum; warm from the inside. It pleases her to know that you're using this to your advantage. She shimmies back against you with her ass encouragingly, secretly glowing with pride as you use her asshole to get yourself off..... almost. The reverie of her being a merely tool for you is brought into sharp relief by your hands sharply clapping against her flanks. She groans as you wrap your thick fist around a hank of her hair and sharply yank her head backwards. This deepens the angle of your firm, ravaging strokes so that when you slide in your cock is even deeper in her ass. She feels the tip somewhere so far up inside her when you push that it feels close to her stomach. Your balls are crushed painfully up against her, you hold this position for several seconds before you let go of her, and let the energy flow into your hips to repeat the stroke again. You have her hair so tight in your hands that the roots start to ache. She has her head thrown back in the direction where your hands are pulling her, so that with each hard, swift stroke, she's following you. You control the pace, the depth, and her responses. Her skin feels tight from the hair-pulling as you roughly grasp hold of her and garner movements from her like a puppet. She's not supporting her body with her hands anymore, because your hands do that for her but the pressure in her hips is unbelievably heavy, due to the incredible depth and frequency of your thrusts. Her sphincter already aching from having you inside her so long, the walls of her lower bowel burning hotly from the forceful friction. Nonetheless, she enjoys every single second of it. He - He feels the way you instantly cave to his every desire, every movement..every tiny inch of flesh dancing as he directs your body onto his, using the strained opening to satisfy such a deep inner need. He knows soon he will reach his peak and her unyielding hole will milk his thick hot ooze from the balls which now collide with her body with almost enough force for penetration. She - Mmmm....a deep, sexual purring escapes her - an animalistic groan. It's certainly something that you don't hear from a human. Everything - her position, the way she relaxes her muscles and shifts herself forwards on her hands and knees each time you release her hair, is like fucking a bitch. Your bitch. You grab her hair again and roughly pull her against you, gliding in now, re-coating yourself in her juices and burying your cock in the warmth and texture of her ass. The articulation of your hard thrusts and rough pulling lets her know that you are loving this - the ultimate turn on for her. during this exchange the room had become quiet, users enraptured in the scene; Lisa had private messaged John urging him to talk to this woman, admiring her narrative skills. John replied that he had chatted generally with her before but they had not played and that she was a geology major at a small mid-western college and seemed very complicated. Lisa reminded him that complicated was definitely not butterfly-like and remarked that if her actions were anywhere near as sensual as her words then he would definitely be happy to hook up with her; sensual, masterful anal being his very favourite kink. John considered this and admitted that the college girl was in his cross-hairs and he was planning to get to know her more, slowly; new John style. John also remarked that her prose reminded him of Lisa's and dared Lisa to join in with the scene; he grinned and leaned back to watch.........sure enough she didn't disappoint, a few seconds later her avatar flashed up in public: Lisa - she feels him deep in her soul, their union is as one spirit chasing the waxing moon of their release. To her his seed spent deep in her bowels conveys her possession of him in totalis - the physical boundaries between them seem to dissolve as they enter the liminal state of his complete submission - he is hers. John grinned widely and chuckled to himself; happy that he could still throw out the hook and reel her in! 'Brava - you attention seeking whore *L*' his next private message said; 'Fuck you! And the whore you rode in on *wg*' her reply came. The scene continued between the three of them now: He - As he feels you transform around him he instinctively becomes aware of his duty to indulge himself completely in every part of you. Unwilling to relinquish his climax yet, he slows his thrusts...slowly easing out of your ass he kneels and pulls you against him; your scalp still tingles as he uses your pelt to guide you...standing now..pressed against you, your juices drip onto his hard-on as he slowly pushes you up against the wall and aligns himself once more with your anus still eager to have his cock in it's crushing embrace...He feels your muscles relax into his whim once more and you feel his teeth firmly on your shoulder as he enters you anew... She - She stands up, lets you lead her by the hair towards the wall, and then presses up against the cement, bent over a slightly to allow you access, hips raised. She can now feel you slowing down, dragging out the seconds as if to burn the memory of the sensation of her virgin ass onto your brain. She can feel you using friction to press more firmly against her tender tract, stroking your dick with the ribbed lining of her asshole. She smiles to herself at how forceful and present you feel pressing up against her from behind and holding her to the wall as she clenches around you one final time feeling your body quake in final release as you shoot, grunting animalistically, into her welcoming depths. Lisa - he holds her physically as he glories in her body but his mind is hers; she spellbinds him with her depraved soul, her need for his glorious possession, his need to give her her wish. To cleave to her beautifully simple requirement to live and feel as a whole human being - would he ever be able to not do this now that he knows the deep satisfaction of it - and repeatedly again; knowing she needs it so? She has him in a trap forged from their joint desires and could break him if she chose to withdraw from his needs. There she goes again thinks John, bringing the gift of submission and the blurred lines of the dynamic of control into play, he rolls his eyes, smiling. He swiftly messages the college girl telling her how hard she has made him with her beautiful prose and apologises for Lisa's intervention, admitting that it had been his idea as her writing style reminded him of Lisa's. She hits back thanking him for his kind comments, tells him it's her first time scening in public and that's she's very flattered by everyone's praise. She also tells him that Lisa had also praised her style and after seeing the two interjections she'd made she's going to think more about the dynamics of the control in the scene - she's never had a sexual experience as intense in reality but she craves it so. John smiled and replied that she has lots of time to answer her soul's needs, indulge her true nature, explore the lifestyle that could lie ahead of her but that she should be sure of her partner before she acts, he writes: ' your submission is the ultimate gift little one, yours to give not his to take - you are trusting him with your pleasure - it's such a freedom, such a release but don't go around giving it to just anyone - there has to be a deep understanding before the heightened state can be reached. Make no mistake you are in control - a submissive always is, spellbinds her Master/Dom, controls everything - you need, he gives - delicious irony' Lisa would be proud of his words here. She replies that she's never really thought of it in that way before but that she definitely will give it some thought now; she's intrigued. John tells her to take her time, to try to separate lust from need and to isolate her driving urges - maybe make some notes and they'll talk again if she wants to. She thanks him and confides that the scene she played in the room has made her so wet and horny and more eager to try such sensual play in real time. John reiterates that a Dominant/submissive relationship takes ultimate trust and a deep understanding of each other - not something to be played at or with someone you don't know well in real time, it's all consuming and the participants have to be stable and grounded - those who speak of playing really are doing just that, playing; it's not a game when emotions run as high as the writing here today suggests. His college girl types *blushing* and he smiles as he wishes her well and she promises to speak to him soon. A seed is sown; he wonders what kind of bloom may grow here - heat grows in his loins as he re-reads the scene in the word document he's copied it to. John allows himself to fixate on the mental images the college girl's fantasy paints and slowly, luxuriously, strokes himself to a mind-blowingly intense climax imagining himself balls deep in her virgin asshole, their souls connected in perverse need.