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Bougeotte

By: jouet



A constant hunger...an ache....a wanting.....a craving....

It sounds so dramatic, doesn't it? Dramatic to me, as I am the one going through it. Me...A wife, doting mother, a 41 year old woman...simply past this kind of thing.

There are a hundred men on the website that I could have, any one of them would cream their pants if I would give them the time of day. The only man whose affection I want, doesn't want me. A cruel twist of fate. 

He was mine for awhile. I had his full attention. He pursued me...ravished me...ruined me.

What upsets me the most is that I wasn't looking for anyone. I was basically content and happy with what I had. The website was a game, something to pass the hours of the day. I didn't want to feel the way I do now...pathetic and strung out.

I am an intelligent woman, realistic and grounded. If you would have told me a year ago that I would be addicted to a man who I met online, I would have told you that you were insane. 

How could this happen to me? Ahhh, but it did happen. It crept up on me, like a devilish little kitten to a play toy. Except, I was the play toy....and I was captured, feeling confused, helpless and in his thrall.

But I am ahead of myself...let me back up and tell you how it all began... 

************* 

"Poor Petite, the pathetic attempts of seduction....

What's a girl to do?"

That was the beginning of the journey....the day I see in my mind so clearly.

I was in the chat room, as was the usual those days...wearing my black lace cami and black thong, my push up bra underneath revealing my creamy white breasts. Long flowing blond ponytail cascading down my left shoulder. 

Yes...I knew how to work it. 

Working from home, it gave me ample opportunity to fool around in the chat room. It was a much needed break from the monotony of my job.

Unfortunately, most of the time, it was more of the same, dull conversation....men ogling at me, calling out for me to 'Show my tits' and 'What size cup are you, Petite?' Yawn. 

I humored them a little, when it suited me. I always felt like I was the one in control, and I was. Just going through the motions, there I sat on display, waiting for something to happen. Everyone else seemed to having a good time. Why wasn't I?

One of the guys called out, "Hey Petite, let the girls out!" I shuddered, and was ready to lash out, as I hear that comment ad nauseam. He seemed harmless, so I was kind. "I've never heard that one before," I sarcastically replied.

That's when it happened. The day that I discovered myself, a part of me, unknown.

How was I unaware of my deepest desires...to submit? It all made sense somehow. Over the years, I had often wondered why I wasn't as interested in having sex as I thought I "should" be.

I had a glimpse of it, in my twenties. A guy I was dating was a Dom in the making....we were in the living room, kissing on the floor. He had removed my belt, put my hands over my head and tied them together. I was intrigued. After a few minutes I had moved my hands, when he said sternly, "Did I tell you that you could move?!" I could feel my eyes blazing...and never forgot how that made me feel, but I couldn't identify it. I tried to explain it to one of my girlfriends, and she had looked at me, baffled. That was it. Never to be felt again....until now.

"Poor Petite, the pathetic attempts of seduction...."

Confused, I didn't know how to respond. He definitely had my full attention. Was he playfully teasing or making fun of me? I can still remember turning around in my seat, my eyes transfixed on the computer screen, trying to figure him out.

I responded to him, and we started to chat. "You look delectable." He was describing me as something delicious....to eat. I was mesmerized.

"You're bad," I teased. 

"I am," he replied. "Fortunately, you like it." He had me there.

"You're right, I love a man with wit."

"Well, wit do you want me to do about it?" he teased.

"LMAO," I said, audibly giggling like a little girl. 

"That would be a shame. It's one of your best features," he said. Though I couldn't see him, I could almost imagine the devilish grin on his face.

"No cam?" I asked him, curiously.

"I don't own one." His answers were intriguing. Never on the defensive, never trying to explain. He seemed extremely sure of himself, not cocky, just confident. And incredibly sexy....the eroticism just oozing out of his pores.

"Still working, petite?" he asked. 

"Yes, I have a ton of work ahead of me." 

"Well, message me if it all gets too much for you," he said, sounding semi-interested. Not wasting any time, I opened up a private chat box.

"Hello," I said, tentatively.

"Good Evening." he replied. Good evening? Who says good evening? A vampire, before his next kill. How appropriate, I would soon learn. God, I'm in trouble. 

"So, what is someone like you doing on here?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, although I already knew what he was getting at.

"You're attractive, much smarter than most of the women on here." 

"Long story," I sighed, not wanting to get into now.

"You're here," I teased him questioningly. 

"Yes, well, I am a man and horribly perverted." 

"What's your name?" he asked me. I never gave out my real name when asked. 

"Jen," I said without hesitation, incredulous at his ability to extract information from me. His name was Michael. He was 28, and lived in London. 

Formal introductions complete, he took the reins of the conversation... "Do you like to be Dominant or submissive in bed?" he asked.

"Maybe both," I replied. I really had no idea what I liked, it was pretty pathetic. "What turns you on?" 

"Control, power, dominance," he said. Then he peppered me with questions.

Have I ever been spanked?

Whipped?

Caned?

I could only say yes to the first one. I was fascinated with him, and the fact that he was so much more sexually experienced than I. He was only 28...how could he be more experienced than me...? I was so naive.

I had to go, as my husband was coming home soon. Our conversation was delightful, and I felt very relaxed and in control. A crafty fisherman, he cast out the line for me to swim about freely. I hadn't realized his hook was already embedded in my back.

We met up again days later in chat. He asked me if I ever had sex fully clothed in public. "No," I replied softly. I felt really inadequate, as I had never done anything remotely like that. 

"If we were to meet, where would you like to meet me, in a museum or restaurant?" he asked. 

"Museum, definitely," I replied. 

"Your favorite artist?" "Seurat," I replied, curiously wondering where this was going. 

He then asked, "What will you be wearing? How will I know it's you?" I told him I would be wearing a black mini skirt, teal colored blouse, thigh high black stockings, black stilettos and a thong. "No thong," he corrected me. I realized we weren't just discussing fashion sense. It was BDSM 101 and class had begun - undeniable access clearly inferred. 

"How will you do your hair?" he asked, leaving no stone unturned.

"I'll put it up in a loose knot." 

"Ok, I walk in, and see you sitting on a bench, gazing at the Seurat," he started the dance. "I come up behind you, gently stroke the back of your neck, put my fingers in your hair, and loosen the knot..your hair undone."

"I tremble at your touch, and can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips," I exhaled softly.

"Shhh," he chided. "Someone might hear you....whisper to me in the gallery."

We started role-playing. I had no trouble following his lead. It felt so natural to me, honestly. My face and chest were flushed, my pussy tingling.

"I want you," I said breathlessly. 

"Beg me, and I'll consider it," he stated flatly.

"Please...." I mewed, my breathing becoming more labored.

"On your knees and show me." Oh.... my... God... My heart hit the floor, and split in two on that one.

"I get on my knees...... and look up at you," I said gingerly, my voice thick with desire.

"What do your eyes say?" he whispered.

"Master," I cried helplessly. 

That was the pivotal point. I knew this was unlike anything I have every felt, but it was inside me, innate.

"I'm going to ravish you," I gasped lustily.

"I'm going to ruin you," he replied. 

My heart, on the floor and split, was now smashed and strewn in pieces, he the victor. 

We continued chatting until he was ready to cum.....and he came, hard. 

I started to tell him how I was kissing his face, how I wished I was there with him. 

Click.

He was gone. I was confused. What? Did he just click off, without a word...no goodbye....?! Yes, he did....that bastard!

He was in control and I wasn't. He had me exactly where he wanted me. I sat there, dazed, staring at the blank computer screen, like someone right after a seizure, in postictal state.

My mind frazzled, all I knew at that point was that he made me feel totally erotic, wild....completely unglued.

The seasoned fisherman reels in the line tight, the wide eyed, gentle fish writhing and squirming, with no hope for escape. 

**************** 

By the next week, I was in Victoria's Secret...searching for the satin lingerie he wanted me to buy, feeding one of his fetishes. I found the perfect baby doll, hot pink satin, with some off white lace framing the top and edging the bottom....my pink nipples, erect and ample in size, standing out nicely. I couldn't wait for him to see me.

I sat down in the comfy, oversized, white chair in my bedroom, and got on the website, practically salivating. "Nervous?" he asked. 

"Why do you say that?" I asked, unable to stop wringing my hands together. 

"You have a few tells. You look good......good enough to fuck." he mused. "Did you buy that for me?" 

"Yes," I said blushing, already wet. 

"Do you think you look hot?" he asked, baiting me. 

"I don't know, maybe...satin is very unforgiving."

"What do you mean unforgiving?" he asked. 

"My body," I mumbled, looking down. 

"And just what is wrong with your body?" he asked, pulling teeth to get the answer.

"Let's talk about you," I pleaded.

"Oh no, we are going to get to the bottom of this."

"I don't have a model's figure, you know," I said timidly, wishing I could escape this line of questioning. 

"Pretty damn close," he said. "You do look hot, by the way. If I was there you'd already have my cream all over that pink baby doll." 

My eyes fluttered, in complete intoxication.

I had to go, as my husband was in the house, and almost coming up the stairs. I hurriedly gave him my private email, which I had never given out before. I was on fire, my hands..shaking.

Two days later, I see a message in my inbox.....

Subject line- "Want more?"

*************

He emailed me.....! I let out a deep sigh of relief and felt my cheeks flame. I was like a schoolgirl again, feeling those long forgotten memories of my first crush...love reciprocated.

Only this was not love, just pure unadulterated lust. But better this time around, knowing what I know now.

I now had another connection to him, and it felt fantastic. What worried me though, was just how strongly I felt for him, almost a complete stranger. It was my practical side trying to warn me, the proverbial red flag. I knew I was in dangerous waters. Stubbornly or rather stupidly, I swam past the buoy. Already quite intoxicated by him, the pull was too intense to stay away. 

The email said only....Log onto chat. I log on, and find him quickly. He asks me if I'm nervous. "You always make me nervous," I gushed.

"Are you wet?" he asks curiously. 

"Yes," I whispered timidly. 

"Wet your finger," he tells me. Naively I put my finger in my mouth. "Not there!" he corrects me.

"Oh," I said, feeling sheepish. I place my fingers in my pussy, already soaking wet. 

"Taste yourself, and tell me what you taste like," he said.

I put my fingers up to my lips, slowly brushing them back and forth, so he could watch. "I taste... sweet," I offered uneasily. 

"What else?" he said.

This is where he always left me dumbfounded...I didn't know what else to say. No, correct that. I did know what to say, but that fact that he wanted me to admit it was so distressing and erotic at the same time. It was such a turn on, that he completely lead the interaction and knew exactly where to take me. "I don't know, help me." I cried.

He laughed. Though I sensed like he enjoyed my lack of expertise in this area...it gave him more of an edge.

We both had to go, saying that we will meet up tomorrow and said good-night. I logged back on to the email, and responded to the initial question. "You always leave me wanting more."

The next day, another email for me.

"I won't be on chat today. I might be on tomorrow. Tempt me."

*************

The rush of emotions ran through me, erotic flashes mixed with panic. Oh God, how was I going to tempt him? I started researching the net, trying to figure out a way to get his attention. The stakes were higher now, and I had to think of something captivating. 

Suddenly, I thought of something...A story...an erotic one. Never having written anything before, much less something like this, I combed the erotic stories on a few sites.

I started writing...amazingly, it wasn't that difficult. With him as the inspiration, the words tumbled out quickly onto the page.....

~~ If I may......(eyes lowered) Master.....

I want to ask you if we can meet again...this time, somewhere different.

I can't stop thinking about you...at work, in bed.. you make me feel so nervous, yet so aroused at the same time. 

Can we meet in a small club..somewhere dark and semi private...? I will be waiting for you....just got off work...I will be wearing my black satin blouse ..it's a little tight..my nipples are pressing against the fabric, starting to tingle.... and my mini skirt with the thigh high black shiny boots. I'm not wearing any panties underneath, just the garter belt like you instructed.

I arrive at the club, order a drink..and gulp it down..feeling a little dizzy with anticipation.

I feel wet... juices are forming around my pussy hole and lips..just thinking about you. 

You walk in...looking so dark and mysterious...gorgeous. and you see me... I turn away- my face is hot..eyes averted. But I turn to look at you again...mesmerized by your penetrating stare. Can't turn away now...you have me.

You slowly walk toward me, ...I notice you have a bag with you...toys? 

You sit down, next to me and......~~

Nervously, I closed my eyes and pressed SEND. Huge waves of regret, shame and confusion overtook me...will he like it? Or is this so juvenile? 

The next morning, I quickly crept down the stairs and made my way to the computer, shaking. 

I open my inbox....one message...oh, he responded! I cautiously open the email, eyes half shut, afraid to look.

One word.

"More."

**************

The rollercoaster car crawled to the peak, inch by painstaking inch, then scorched down the treacherous track at warp speed, my hands knuckle-white, holding onto the bar for dear life. That is the only way I can describe the raw emotions that churned inside me every time I opened his emails. Exhilarated, frightened, inflamed... He was such a mystery, just replying with one word. Did he like the story? I thought so, but wasn't quite sure. He was also demanding to see more, making me feel completely overwhelmed. 

I didn't reply right away, as I needed time to process this. After a few hours went by, an email arrived from him.

"Tell me more." 

M

XXX 

This was interesting. He was basically telling me the same thing, but softer now, with kisses. That was all I needed.

I started writing furiously, and sent him exactly what he wanted... more.

~~ Your eyes slowly climb up my body, and lock into mine. My body shivers in response. Your eyes are dark and smoldering with heat and intensity. You lean over and whisper softly in my ear, "exquisite." I can feel your lips ever so lightly brushing against my neck. My nipples are standing erect against my blouse, and I notice your eyes going up and down my body, drinking me in. I'm paralyzed. 

My blouse is tight and has gaps between the smooth buttons, causing my breasts to be slightly exposed. I notice other men at the bar staring at me with a smile across their lips. This pleases you that I have everyone's attention but I belong to you. 

"Have you been a good girl this week?" you murmur in my ear. You slowly brush your hand against my nipples, which make them stand out more. I can barely speak, my pussy is throbbing with desire for you. I glance down and can see you harden underneath your trousers.

I have such an urge to touch you, but wait, until you give me permission. You see my gaze and know exactly what I am thinking. "You want to feel my cock, don't you? Beg me," you say with such boldness, it makes my legs tremble. I feel so weak, my breathing is getting more rapid. "Please," I say trembling. "Please what?" you ask. "Please...Master."

You nod with approval. 

I put my hand on your cock, which is rock hard, throbbing and hot. I gently stroke you up and down, feeling your balls that are filled with cum ~~

I closed my eyes and pressed SEND. With bated breath, I waited for his response. A few hours later, it dropped in my inbox.

~~ They are aching in your soft, delicate hands.

Then I tell you to stop. The prize is not yet for you.

First there will be some tests. I order two shots of tequila, lemon and salt. 

They sit on the smooth marble bar top in front of us gleaming in the bar's dim lights. We're on our own, more or less - the barman's disappeared somewhere but there are a couple of guys seated a long way away who can nevertheless see you. I ask if you're nervous. You're shaking a little and you say you are. Good.

I tell you to unbutton your blouse.. You do so, revealing two delicate, hard nipples. I ask you how you feel on show...

You look sensational in the satin, your skin pale and creamy in the bar lights. I bend my head and lick your right nipple before sprinkling salt over it. The tiny grains stick to my wet on your skin. Then I squeeze the lemon over your left nipple. I suck the salt off you in one movement down the shot and bend my head to your other breast running my tongue all over it taking every last drop of lemon before biting into the soft flesh just enough to leave a dull red mark on you.....

Then I ask you if you'd like your shot....? ~~

It's hard to describe how I felt after I read his response. Whereas I was intoxicated before, now I was completely drunk with desire. His response was telling. I realized that I wasn't in this alone. He was feeling it too, maybe not as deeply as I was, but I was getting to him. It also told me that I was not playing with an amateur...oh, no. This was someone that not only wrote about erotic escapades, but was an experienced player. I was definitely in over my head. For the first time in my life, I felt alive, on fire. I had always done the right thing, played by the rules. The struggle of right vs. wrong, good vs. evil continued playing in my mind.

What do I do with this? I know I should break contact with him, but I just couldn't do it. I was too weak. The intensity of our writing was building and I could feel the heat coming off the page. Against my better judgment, I continued to write more.

~~ My shot...? What? For a moment, I don't know where I am...I feel dizzy, no.... 

I am completely intoxicated from the feel of your hot wet mouth and tongue. My breasts are shivering and wet, yet I feel like I am on fire. My left nipple has a dull ache from your bite....I wanted so badly to pull your face to me and keep it there, wishing you would ravish me again and again. I try to come to my senses..as I can now see your beautiful face in front of me, holding up my shot. 


Bougeotte Ch. 02



The seduction continued..... I felt the familiar rush through my veins as there would be more stolen hours with him. But, as always, that high was accompanied by the nagging feeling in my gut that I was on borrowed time. He never said it aloud, he didn't have to. He was quiet about his personal life, never offering any information and he never asked about mine. I wanted to know him- what he liked to do for fun, his taste in music, favorite foods, all of it, but I had to be selective when asking questions. Extremely intuitive, I could determine even through emails that I couldn't press him for too many details. Once or twice throughout all these weeks of correspondence, I received a message from him that had a softer tone; playful, the door to his heart opening a crack. But, just as quickly it was slammed shut. Maybe that was the allure though- he always kept me wanting more, my thirst never quenched, my hunger never satiated. 

My secret life.... submissive slut by day, suburban housewife and mother by night. I didn't try to analyze it anymore, and deluded myself into believing that everyone had a dark side, and this was mine. 

My husband was aware of my profile on the chat website, but not about my dangerous liaison. I knew instinctively that what we had between us was precious, a treasure, and I protected it fiercely. So mentally taxing, clearing recent history, erasing cookies...once, twice, over and over. Hiding my soaking wet thong in the laundry basket before my husband came home. I felt powerless to stop this virtual "affair" and reconciled my indiscretion by my husband's own fall from grace, when he was chatting with other women. 

Michael sent me the start of our new story, "Employment," with an email to follow.

~~ Sitting in my corner office on the 24th floor, I glance at the clock and buzz through to my secretary. 

"Emma, it's time for my two o'clock. Is she here yet?" 

"I'll send her right in," comes the reply. 

I've been looking for the right PA for a while now. I sit back and wait for the door to open. ~~

"Good Morning. I've decided I want to see you in a satin blouse, open to the front. You know my fetish for this particular type of clothing. Send it to me in the next hour," he demanded, my sexy taskmaster. "And I'd love to read your response to our story." 

"I don't have a satin blouse; I can wear another pretty blouse for you," I offered, trying to please him. "I will send you my response soon, although I am not sure what our heroine is going to do...she is still quite miffed at you," I teased, trying to provoke him, as he never dodged my gusty taunts...they only fanned his fire, which was one of the most erotic things about him. 

"Well, ultimately, our heroine is going to obey, or she will be punished," he replied with wicked assurance. "What are you wearing today?" 

"Not wearing anything right now, I am just getting into the shower, wish you could join me...." I purred seductively, trying to tantalize him. 

"Temptress. What a tableau you in the shower would make. When did you last fuck under a stream of water?" 

Oh my God, what he did to me! The fact that I had to look up the translation of his French made me so wet. 

As requested, I sent him my response to our story, knowing precisely where I wanted this to go. I say "our story" and that is exactly what it started to become. It was a shade darker than the first, a battle of wills at play. Was it "Life imitates art" or the other way around? All the same, I started to shiver as the cool kindly breezes of autumn evolved into crystal, razor sharp winter winds. 

Still, as cold as he seemed at times, he broke me in so gently as we went along, slowly and deliberately taking my submissive cherry, as I shamelessly lay there, milfy legs spread, begging him to fuck me. 

~~Oh, God...I'm so nervous, sitting here outside his office. My palms are sweaty...I haven't been on a job interview in so long. At least the outfit I'm wearing is perfect. I'm wearing a grey wool, pencil skirt just above the knee, with a single layer of ruffles at the bottom, and matching form fitting jacket with graceful notched neckline. Underneath....well, I do have a pretty black lace bra on, thigh high stockings....and that's it. My hair is up in a loose, feminine knot, with some tendrils hanging down. Professional, but I still look like a woman should, with curves, and a hint of cleavage. My black heels finish the look. 

I have to meet with the boss, Mr. Michael- I haven't thought about that name since..... 

Ugh! The sharp pain in my chest again...No! You are over him, completely over him. He meant nothing to you...I tell myself. 

Think about the interview....focus! It's just that, I've never met anyone like him. He was so different, not only gorgeous, striking. With piercing green eyes...eyes that could see right through me. Intelligent, of course, but also keenly aware of what the majority of men don't see. With just a simple word, my knees would buckle. 

Sadly, I never heard from him again after that unforgettable night.....Why? I still can't figure it out. I thought he was feeling it too. ~Sigh.

Ok, now focus....the interview, remember? Oooooh...it makes me so mad when I think about it. There was nothing we didn't do that night, well, almost nothing. And for what? He puts me in a cab and doesn't have the decency to call me, text me, nothing. If I ever ran into him again, I would love to give him a piece of my mind!

The secretary motions me to come, "He's ready for you," she says. Ok, here we go -shake it off.

She slowly opens the door to his office, I can't see him clearly yet. He then stands up and walks over to me.

Waaait......No! Oh my God, it can't be...it's.... Michael! My chin almost hits the floor, as my face burns with humiliation.

The secretary is making small talk, while he stands there, smirking, silently mocking me. The conversation is audible but muffled, as if I am floating underwater. I feel naked...exposed. She finally excuses herself and closes the door. Finally, I regain my composure, and feel the heat coming up from my toes, as the fear gives way to anger. 

"You!" I hiss. I am so infuriated right now, I can hardly speak. Shaking my head back and forth, "You have some nerve! Using me like that, and sending me off without a word! You know what? You can take this job and shove it up your ass! I'm outta here!" I spat, fire bursting forth from my red ruby lips. 

With that, I turn on my heel and head for the door.

**

Amused by your anger I take a seat. Your ass looks fantastic in that skirt as you walk towards the door and I feel myself harden. 

Just as your about to open it you hear me say "Stop." 

You were just about to twist the handle, but at the sound of my voice your hand freezes. You don't know why. Blushing you turn to face me. You can't look me in the eye but you feel my eyes running up your body, assessing you. 

I like the look you've chosen. Conservative but sexy, understated. 

"If you're trying to impress me," I tell you, "You're doing well. Sit down." 

You're still angry, but it's subsiding. Your mind starts to wander back to the last time I gave you orders and you can't resist. You decide to play my game, after all, you do need a job. 

You walk back across the room and sit on the chair facing my desk. 

"Look at me." You look me in the eyes. 

"I'm looking for a personal assistant -- someone I can rely on to do what they're told, be professional, imaginative, creative, accurate and dress appropriately." 

"Most of all I'm looking for obedience. And if I don't get it there will be consequences." 

"Obviously you're capable of doing the job otherwise you wouldn't be here." 

"And just to be clear. Last time we met, I didn't use you." 

Looking deep into your eyes: "I know you enjoyed every minute of that evening." 

"Now tell me why I should employ you." ~~

"I will be going away tomorrow, and will be unavailable for the next few days," Michael stated out of the blue. "But, as I would be remiss in not giving you some homework, I want you to have the next chapter of our story sent to me before I return." 

"Going away? Anywhere interesting?" 

"Paris," he replied. 

"Oh, Paris! Getting engaged?" I asked, teasing him. 

"LOL, no, just a dirty weekend- shopping, eating, fucking," he chuckled.

"I'm going to miss these emails. Listening to Mariah Carey's song 'Obsessed' right now, as in, I-am-obsessed-with-you!" I confessed. 

"I'm going to miss these emails too. A little obsession can be a good thing," he replied wickedly, for a moment, echoing my passionate desire. He then began to muse over what kind of lingerie he would be seeing in Paris, and what he would envision me wearing, maybe one that had a string of pearls attached, running over my delicate blushed lips, arousing my clit with each subtle movement. 

Anticipating his sweet return, I penned the next chapter, just as he instructed. 

~~ Stalling for time, I stay silent, not knowing what to say. My thoughts are in turmoil. Part of me is still angry and hurt, that I didn't hear from you. Another part is reeling from your arrogance, seeing that I am upset, and completely dismissing my complaints. In spite of all that, my mind drifts back to our last encounter, your punishments...and rewards. 

I want you...next to me, inside me. My pussy tingles, and I am unable to stop the sweet nectar running between my thighs. 

You are fully enjoying this. As your eyes devour me, I try to comfort myself, wringing my hands together, hoping you won't notice how terrified I am. 

I gather my thoughts. "You should hire me because I have a great deal of experience in this field, my creativity is endless. I have no problem taking orders, but -I think you know that already," I say, my smile almost imperceptible, a twinkle in my eye. 

"The only thing I need to know is what is appropriate to wear for you, er- I mean, in the office." 

I look at you, and feel my lips part. You are breathtaking. 

"That is, if you want to hire me...." ~~

As I hoped, upon his return he replied that afternoon.....

~~ "The job is yours as your resume is very impressive. I like the dignity of the outfit you've got on for an interview situation, but for everyday work it's unacceptable." 

I stand up, drawing a pair of scissors from the pot on my desk. I walk round behind you and place a hand on your shoulder stroking my fingers up your neck loosening your hair. 

"I expect the best working here, provocative, edgy and obedient. You need to be much more tempting." 

In one movement I lean forward and snip the buttons from your jacket letting it hang open, exposing you. 

"Already much better." 

Cupping each breast in turn I pinch your nipple through the lace then let the nipple snap back before cutting the cone of material with the scissors. 

Gently I caress both with the heavy, cold metal of the scissors. You shudder. 

I ask you to stand. You do, facing me and I run the scissors up your inner thigh, lifting your skirt up, exposing your stunning pussy. Roughly I spin you round and bend you over my desk. Then I cut a long V of material away exposing the backs of your legs and your cute little ass. 

As the material hits the ground you feel the tip of my cock resting on your pussy lips..... ~~

"Ohh..." I murmured aloud, then drew in a sharp intake of breath as I envisioned him pressing up against me from behind. I sent him a quick email. "Scissors? You did make me shudder! Miss me..?" 

The next day, I tiptoed down the stairs, eager to find his next erotic tease.....hmmm...nothing. Ok, well, he just got back in town and all....no worries.

But the day after that, nothing still. This was odd... Did I say the wrong thing? I sent him a short note, "Everything ok?" 

No reply. 

A few days passed, still no response. And no activity on the website. I was worried sick now...what happened? Was he found out? As each day passed, I grew more frantic. 

What if I never hear from him again? I must have checked my email on the hour. 

I broke down and sent him another email. Fluctuating between panic and denial, I began to doubt the internet's capability of sending my previous message. "Michael, haven't heard back from you. Just checking to make sure you're ok." 

Again, no reply. 

I had to talk to someone! My best girlfriend, my heart stone- Veronica. . If anyone would know what to do in this situation, she would! I dialed her number. "Ronnie, I have to tell you something," I began.

"I have been chatting to someone online..." I confessed softly. My words heavy with remorse, I shared everything, from my husband's online dalliance to my own infidelity. Not immune to the temptations of life, she understood and never judged me. I sent her the story Michael and I completed and the latest unfinished one, so she could see the intensity of the relationship, and told her to call me back after she read it. Two minutes after we hung up, the phone rang. 

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed into the phone, and then immediately hung up to continue reading, making me crack up with laughter. Ok, so it wasn't just my imagination...Michael and I did have something hot between us! 

"Jen, I'm telling you....you will hear from him again," she confidently told me. "A man like that wouldn't leave this story unfinished. This isn't someone who just researches butt plugs online, he has them and knows how to use them! He will definitely be in touch." 

We both surmised why he had disappeared. "He probably got hit by a car and broke his leg!" she theorized kiddingly, trying to lighten my mood. "No, no, wait- better yet, he's in the hospital with appendicitis!" 

Both nurses, I countered, "Yeah, but he would be out of the hospital by now, if it was just appendicitis!" 

"Ok, well, he went septic and is still in the ICU!" she said, which sent us into a fit of laughter, and we continued making things up until our face ached. It was almost orgasmic after getting off the phone with her, as we both sighed in pleasure. 

"Call me immediately when you hear from him," she demanded. 

"I will, don't worry." In an effort to tempt him in case he logged onto the chat website, I took a sexy photo of myself in the hot pink satin lingerie, and posted it to my profile. 

Ten days had passed. I was beginning to doubt that we ever had anything between us at all. I went onto the chat website one last time to see if he had logged on. 

Beneath his profile name, there it was. "Online." I couldn't believe my eyes. He was there! I immediately checked my email- one message from him. Finally, I would find out what happened! 

I opened and read the message......... 

No, he-didn't-just-say-that. I sat there, stunned silent. You have got to be kidding me! 

I called Ronnie right away. "Ronnie, guess-what?!" I said, my voice overly annunciating each word. 

"He emailed you?" 

"Yes, he did, but just wait until you hear what he wrote," I crooned, dangling the long awaited cliff-hanger. 

"He better have been emailing you from the hospital bed on his blackberry!" she said sarcastically. "Tell me immediately, I'm dying!" 

I read her his email, word for word----"I'm fine, on the website in fact. I thought I would give you a break. Nice pic. For me?" 

"Not anymore!" she returned contemptuously.

To be continued...



Bougeotte Ch. 03



"Can you believe the nerve?" I said in disgust. "Give me a break? Oh, how sweet of him!" I sneered sarcastically. "I am NOT emailing him back!" 

"Hell no!" Ronnie reiterated. "Fuck him." she added, not one to mince words. "I think he needed the break, not you. He couldn't handle it. Just tell him you are a grown woman, perfectly capable of deciding when you need a break!"

We continued the debate. Where had this come from and why he would be acting like this? "I just don't understand..." I said, my voice trailing off. "I thought he really enjoyed what we were doing as much as I did. Now, he is acting so detached."

"Don't worry about it, Jen. He did enjoy it. You don't need that shit. There are a hundred other guys out there that you can chat with and have just as much fun and excitement, without them treating you like that."

"You're right," I sighed, not sounding at all convinced that she was. I fluctuated between being really hurt and really angry, re-reading previous emails and wondering where I went wrong...why didn't I see this coming? 

Who was I kidding? I did see it all along, and that is why I was so hesitant to submit. Still, it didn't explain how he could come at me like a speed train, and then stop on a dime. 

Thank God I had vacation planned the next day with my family. This is exactly what I needed, to get away from everything, give me a new perspective. And, secretly, of course, I was glad I wouldn't have any access to my laptop, and therefore couldn't email him, even if I wanted to. 

The trip was fabulous, a much needed change of scenery...although I couldn't stop the intrusive thoughts of Michael, and what I was going to do when I returned.

I logged onto my email, and tried to prepare myself for whatever, if anything, was in my inbox. Two messages from him. My heart leapt, insides started tingling...No, no, control yourself, Jen, I thought.

The first one said, "Haven't heard back. You ok?" I couldn't help the smile that formed on my lips. 

Second message, "Playing hard to get?" Okay, now I was absolutely giddy; he was showing some concern and interest. Of course, still remaining the Dom that he was, he was in total control of his emotions. But the fact that he had sent two messages told me he didn't want this to end. I was ecstatic.

But, still pissed. The devil in me wanted to get him back, I can't deny that. I was secretly glad he was anxious, just like he made me. Yeah, I knew it was childish, but it was all part of it too. The mental control, the play back and forth....this is what I lived for, the rush I got. And for him as well. 

Ten days after his first email, I decided it was time to respond. This had to be a good one.

"I decided to return the favor and give you a break, lol." I sent it, silently giggling and wondering how he would take it, what his response would be, if he would respond?

A few days passed, with no reply. He was biding his time, I figured he would. Then it came.

"Couldn't resist though could you. Miss me?"

"Humph!" I sharply exhaled- He always had the perfect answer. But, isn't that what turned me inside out, the fact that he never succumbed? I was angry though, and tiring of this game.

"I could wait the 4-5 days required to respond, but I'm not going to.....What do you want from me? Do you want me to beg? Don't answer that, lol. 

Please, just leave me alone, if you are going to keep tossing out these little crumbs. I do miss talking to you, but I don't want to play these stupid games anymore."

One day passed, then two. Three, five, seven....with no reply. I had to admit it; I missed him, and started to feel confused and remorseful about my email. My thoughts started to race.....What does he owe you, Jen? Did he promise you anything? Did he lie? No, he didn't. You're a big girl, and you spread your legs wide and took it like a grown woman..It was a fun thing, and you should have just taken it for what it was, and enjoyed it.

I had to contact him, maybe it wasn't too late. 

I sent him an email -my tone fragile and filled with longing, "Please.... write to me again. Do you never think about me?" I hated myself for being so weak! 

Two days later...a response. I was so nervous, and had no idea what to expect at this point. I opened the email and slowly opened my eyes to read it....

"Are you begging me?"

Rapture! It was on. 

"On my knees," I replied, my eyes blazing. 

"Wearing?"

"Pink lace bandeau bra with matching pink lace boy shorts," I said, with picture attached, trying to please him.

"That's satisfactory, but you can do better," he said dryly.

"I'm sorry, Master. I will try to do better next time- I so want to please you..." I said with eager enthusiasm, wanting to show him how hard I was trying.

"I want to see your pussy. You have an hour. I like that you want to please me. That's exactly the attitude I was hoping to see. Obviously the training's working."

"Training? Is that what this is...my training? Is that why you gave me a break? To break me?" I replied, purposely trying to provoke his fire.

"Yes, this is your training, and I did break you didn't I? How sweet, the tone of your begging was to me. Delicious desperation. 

Do you think that's cruel? Do you think I care? 

You are ma petite esclave, and you must learn how to behave.

If you do, you may get a reward. If you don't, you will be punished." he returned, sending me in an erotic tailspin. God, he was good.

"You did break me, shamefully so. It almost killed me to write to you, but I couldn't stop myself," I said, looking up from under my eyelashes with lips pouty, languishing in my own helplessness.

"I'm glad you felt ashamed. How did you feel when I responded?"

"Excited... but nervous. What did you think of my angry outburst?" I asked, figiting in my seat.

"I liked your anger. It amused me. By writing that, all you managed to do was just confirm what I already knew. That you are my slave in training. You are hooked on me, on these exchanges. I bet you were thinking about me the last time you came. When did you last fuck without thinking about what we're doing?"

My eyes were on fire after I read that. I loved his cruelness..he had such a way of putting me in my place, while still making me feel hot and desirable. 

"I love being your little slave....xx... so wet right now, I'm yours, take me." I exhaled.

"I'm glad you understand your position, my jouet. I also think we should start writing again."

"I actually did write more, an alternate ending, but never sent it to you. Am I your amusement?" I asked him, after deliciously looking up the translation.

"You are strictly for my amusement. I'd love to read the alternate."

"Why do you want to read the alternate?" I asked, not really wanting him to see how emotionally attached I had become.

"Because I like how you write- straight from the heart. Now send it to me, along with the picture."

I went upstairs, got my camera and clicked off a few frames, before finding the hottest one, a picture of my naked sex with a string of pearls draped in between my bare lips and sent it to him.

"Red hot and right on time. I got hard the minute it dropped into my inbox. I love the inclusion of the pearls.. If I was there, I would give you a tight hot fuck in your bedroom while your husband is out." he said darkly. 

"Oh, you are so erotic...if only you could give me a tight hot fuck," I gushed.

"I'd also like a little resistance. I would insist you turn and face me. Every woman has a certain expression during anal sex. I wonder what yours would be. I'd love to see it one day."

Good night, I was done. I sat there, my mind spent from the passion expelled and received. The break we had put a new element into our relationship-a hostility and lust that took things to a higher level. It was delicious misery. Was this all part of it? The dynamic between Dom and sub? Was the break really just a tactic he employed to gain more control over me? I wanted to assume yes, it was. It was too painful to think that he had tired of me, had lost interest; because that would only mean he may do it again, and in all likelihood, would. Did that realization stop me? Maybe it would have, had I not deliberately wrapped the blanket of denial around me. My own behavior was so out of character that I no longer knew who I was anymore. The seduction and our story resumed, full speed ahead....with our heroine desperately trying to cling to what little dignity I, er-I mean she, had left......

~~No....No!" I say aloud. I want to run. "Please.....Oh God! Help me," I whimper, knowing it's futile.... I want to resist you, but I can't. What are you doing to me? 

This is exactly what I wanted, but I feel so powerless, and it makes me tremble. I want you desperately, but your control over me is frightening. 

I start to pull away, "I can't...I can't do this..." As I walk away, I feel the tug of my emotions, pleading me to stay. I ignore it and continue to walk towards the door. Good-bye Michael... 

**

You hear me chuckle to myself as you walk slowly towards the door, watching your ruined skirt flap against your legs.

"Stop" I say. 

You're fighting it. Face hot with shame. Your slow steps become slower and then you stop as you reach the door. You can't bear to look at me. 

"You can leave if you want to. You can always stop if that's what you want. But I don't think that's what you want." 

"I think you want to please me. Isn't that right?" 

"Look at me and tell me..." 

**

My hands palm the door and I slowly slide down, and crumple into a heap. I'm a complete mess. 

So torn...I love and hate what I am feeling at the same time.. He has found a place inside me that I didn't know existed. 

A place... where my mind has no authority. 

I feel like I am humiliating myself, by giving in to this...why? Why can't I just enjoy it? 

I know why...because I am afraid that I will lose this game. I'm out of my league, and we both know it. 

You slowly walk toward me, and I can feel you standing right above me. I slowly turn and look up at you.

With eyes that say, Mercy...please....? 

**

Standing over you I look down. 

"I'm withdrawing my offer of employment as my PA.. You've just proved you're not up to the job. You clearly can't handle yourself professionally. 

You need a lot of training before you'll be ready for that role. 

But, as a kindness, I have another opening for you. I'll consider employing you on a retainer as my slave. You will be well paid. You will be treated exactly as I see fit. 

This little display obviously merits considerable punishment, which will be forthcoming.

Nod your head if you're willing to accept your fate and what it entails." 

**

Sitting on my knees, I look up at you. Knowing I can't continue to behave this way, as it displeases you, I nod my head. It hurts to see you disappointed in me. 

I need to let go of this tug-of-war...between my will and his. I can only be happy by serving him, his needs and desires. And then, maybe I will be worthy of a reward...or correction. 

Relief washes over me...knowing I am in his hands, and under his control. I do accept my fate, and all that it entails. 

"I submit...Master." 

**

I look deep into your eyes searching for the depth of your commitment and am pleased by what I find. 

"Good, at least you've learnt something, but your behaviour has been far from acceptable today and I can't overlook that." 

"If you're going to be disobedient you must be corrected. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and mitigate your punishment as you may simply have been ignorant of the proper way to behave in the presence of your master." 

"That does not mean correction won't be severe." 

Roughly I pull you to your feet and walk round you, drinking in the sight of your ruined suit. I tear the jacket off and rip the skirt down. You look nervous, naked apart from heels and a bra. 

I walk over to my desk and take a pair of hard, dark metal handcuffs from the drawer. I cuff your slender wrists together, closing the metal tightly, pinching your skin. 

Then, by the cuffs, I lead you to my office window. Taking another short length of chain, I attach one end to the cuffs and then tell you to bend at the waist. When you're bent over, I attach the other end to a ring on the floor. 

"You must stay standing and silent unless spoken to," I tell you. 

You're far from comfortable, but you nod in submission.

From my desk I take a thin, black leather riding crop. 

Teasing you, I run the tip up the inside of both your legs, then run the whole shaft between your pussy lips roughly stroking your clit with it. 

You shiver, helpless. 

The first strike erupts, a searing hot line of pain across your raised, exposed buttocks. 

"How did that feel? Do you think you deserve more punishment?" I ask, watching the thin mark darken to a deep red.

**

Though nervous, I felt such a raging lust for you when you tore off my jacket... the pleasure is excruciating. 

I want you.......you can't imagine how much. 

Your eyes on me weigh so heavy. My pussy tingles as the sweet liquid oozes past my lips.

So tickled when you grabbed me roughly and led me away......take me anywhere....just take me. 

I stand, chained to your desk, silent, waiting. 

Seeing the crop, I feel dizzy, hot. Feeling it between my pussy lips.....oh God.. 

I wince, feeling the sting and burn across my ass, it starts to throb with pain. 

How did it feel? My clit is so hard, my body weak, I want to cry out. 

How should I answer? Do I say yes or no to more punishment? Oh, Michael... 

"Whatever pleases you, Master." 

** 

Correct. 

As soon as the words have left your lips you see the riding crop flash through the air. Stinging it lands across your buttocks, once, twice, three times leaving its hot red marks across your smooth creamy flesh. 

You remain silent although the pain must be excruciating and on the fifth strike you whimper. 

"Not good enough," I say, kneeling so my eyes are level with yours. 

"I told you correction would be severe and that you were to remain silent unless spoken to." 

Standing up, I walk over to my desk and from a drawer select a bright red ball gag. 

"If you can't be quiet, you'll have to be silenced."

Standing astride you I slip the ball into your mouth and fasten the gag behind your head, tightly. 

Picking up the crop again I walk in front of you.. Gently, looking into your eyes I flick your nipples with the tip. I caress your body with the mean little stick making you shiver. You think you know what's coming... 

I walk behind you and raise the crop as if to strike, but I change my mind. Your pussy's still oozing juice and I slip the crop's tip in, wetting the taught leather. Then I slowly slide it out, lingering on your g-spot. 

From my desk, I fetch a new toy. A smooth, cool metal butt plug. After wetting the metal in your pussy I slip it slowly, inch by inch into your ass hole. You wince but make no sound.... Good girl. 

Then, standing behind you, I slide three fingers into your tight pussy. Not enough, I decide, forcing you open with a fourth. Gently fucking your ass with the plug, I start to really work you. Soon, you're dripping wet and I'm inching my whole fist into you. All the way in.. 

With my other hand I loosen the gag so it falls from your mouth and hangs round your neck. "Make as much noise as you like," I say, my fist deep inside you...

**

The gag falls to my neck and I gasp for air...practically hyperventilating, my face tingles.

I take in a big breath to avoid passing out....all the while hoping that you are pleased with me. 

"Oh, God, I cry out...Yess...fuck me please...fuck me so hard..." My moans go from low guttural sounds to high pitched cries and squeals as you fuck my pussy and ass at the same time.... 

My white creamy cheeks have turned scarlet red, and are starting to welt. I can feel the intense heat of the pain...I turn my face to you and look into your eyes, then avert them, careful not to upset you. You leave the plug in place then gently massage the tender mounds of flesh. Feeling your strong hands caressing and manipulating me, my pussy weeps. I hunger for you... for your cock. I want so badly to feel your velvet hardness on my face and mouth, anywhere you want to indulge me...if I am worthy. 

Get on your knees, you say. I obey without hesitation, and drop to the floor in front of you. 

Look at me, you command. I look up at you, in your gleaming green eyes, and almost find it hard to breathe. I want to look away, from the sheer magnitude of your stare, which feels like electric charges shooting through me. You take the hard metal cuffs off my wrists, which are reddened and sore. 

You know what I want, and won't deny me any longer, as I see you harden through your trousers. I bite my lip, trying to stifle a moan. 

"You want to suck my cock, don't you?" you say, as your trousers drop to the floor.

My eyes widen, at the absolute enormous size of you. I answer you by parting my sweet lips, opening them wide...submissively waiting for you to enter, as a drop of cum starts to ooze from your crown... 

**

Roughly I thrust the tip of my cock between your lips, holding your head by the hair. 

Deeper and deeper I ease it in. You're good, but not good enough not to gag eventually. 

Teasingly I fuck your mouth, pre-cum dribbling from the tip of my massive erection. I can feel your tongue lap hungrily for it tasting me, willing me to explode so your thirst for hot bittersweet cum is slaked. 

You gag again as I force my cock deeper. Then I withdraw. 

I ask you to lie on my desk, tilt your head back and open wide. 

Slowly, standing over you I slide between your lips again, slipping even further down your throat all the way to my balls. 

Roughly I use you, feeling you sucking hard for what you so passionately desire, crazed by the extreme sensations. Half the time you can hardly breathe as my thrusts begin to make your eyes water, your makeup run. 

I'm close, your lust and sweet compliance a titanic aphrodisiac. I feel myself start to release uncontrollably filling your mouth with cum. Still spraying I pull out, coat your lips, face and hair with my hot cream, smearing it down onto your body, your pert sweet breasts sticky with my seed. You look beautiful. 

"How do you feel?" I whisper. 

**

"Favored," I murmur, while I begin to slowly smear your hot cum all over my body. My fingers reach my inflamed lips and I suck them clean. 

I am lying on your desk, naked, exposed, with your seed all over me; bewildered, trying to take it all in. Why me? I'm thinking.

My mind is flooding with questions. I look up at you, trying to find the answers. I feel you looking deep into the depths of my chocolate brown eyes, "Shhhh.." you whisper, putting your finger on my sticky wet lips, immediately calming the chaos in my head. I aimlessly start to suck it like a baby with a pacifier. You pull away and leave me reaching for you. 

Go and clean yourself up, you say, nodding to the plush spa in your office. I slowly rise up, as I unstick myself from your desk. 

I enter the spa and find it stocked with everything I could ever need or desire..thick fluffy white towels, scented soap...the maroon and black marble of the spa pristine and polished. 

I turn on the shower and feel the calescent water running down my body, delicious... 

The soap smells heavenly as I slather it all over me... feeling so desired by you, my nipples harden and I slowly stroke them, trying to soothe myself, already missing you. 

My back discerns a cool breath of air, and I feel you right behind me....~~

Returning to real life he asked me, "Tell me what I do to you in the shower," wanting me to write the next part of our story. This made me a little nervous, seeing that he didn't care to take the time to write it himself. I sent it to him, while wondering if that blanket was starting to unravel....




Bougeotte Ch. 03



~~I can feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach...God, what you do to me, just feeling you next to me is enough to make me tremble. 

You press up against me, my hot, smooth skin melting into you. Your strong hands caress me, my shoulders, arms....I feel you harden against my ass and my pussy responds in turn...dribbling onto my thighs. You see this and place your fingers into my juice, then bring it up to my sweet lips and let me suck it off. 

You savagely turn me to face you.. you bend down and put your mouth on mine...we kiss passionately, while your fingers are still my mouth...yesss...this is what I wanted..needed. "Please...Master," I beg. "Take me, now..." 

You face me to the cool wet tiles, put my arms up, palming the walls. Your delicious body together with mine, I feel you, your cock is so hard. You seat it right between my legs, touching my wet slit.. My legs are shaking with anticipation. You pull back and your cock is grinding between my pussy and my ass, keeping me in suspense, not knowing where you are going to fuck me. I can't take it...I whimper in agony, so hungry for you..I wait submissively for you to decide...~~

While we continued our story, he asked me, "Do you want to please me?" 

"Yes, I'll do anything you ask." 

"I wonder if you would do anything?" he mused. "Pee in a glass for me, and send me the picture. Then, go in the bathroom, and pee while you make yourself cum and write to me how you felt." 

Every time he asked me to do something new, or uncomfortable, my first thought was 'I can't do that!' with was ironic, as I always managed to do it soon enough. 

I completed the tasks, sent it to him and waited. And waited. 

No response. 

I was angry and sent him an email....the definition of a mind fuck. 

The stages of grief followed over the next few days, as I didn't hear from him. Every day, I sent him an email, displaying a different emotion-denial, anger, bargaining, depression; each one trying to engage him. If only my self-awareness would have helped me deal with it better, but it only made me more aware of how desperate I was, how confused I felt, wondering what I did wrong. 

At the end of the week, I saw an email in my inbox and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it was all part of the game. 

How wrong I was. 

"Ma petite esclave, 

Thank you for completing your tasks, as ever, you have won my appreciation. 

It is with great regret that I am ending my time as your master. 

I am going through an intense time in my life right now, and it is unfair to you that I keep disappearing, as our liaison has also been so intense. 

I have very much enjoyed our correspondence, but sadly, it is time to end. 

I wish you much happiness in your future." 

M

XXX 

I re-read his words, and my mind went numb for a moment. Then my heart felt the blow. I became overcome with emotion as the tears spilled out. I started to cry with choking sobs, my chest heaving- the kind of cry that has a force of its own, as the realization set in. 

I grabbed my cell phone and dialed. "Ronnie..?" my voice breaking.

"Jen, what's up? What's the matter?!" 

"It's over, it's over, it's over..." I cried.

But is it? To be continued...



Bougeotte Ch. 04



My heart was broken- I, was broken. And stunned. I was in as much disbelief as anyone else could be. How could I feel so upset losing a man whom I had never met, never heard his voice, never touched or felt his flesh on mine? You could say that we had only emailed and chatted online, but that wouldn't even come close to what transpired between us.

I opened my soul to him...my guts... desires, and needs. He brought me to a height of arousal that I had never experienced before...ever. He gave me tasks which I obeyed to the letter. I sent him pictures of myself in various clothes, adorned with what he desired. He asked me to confess very intimate sexual experiences of mine that I had never shared with anyone else, and I did. 

All willingly of course. He never forced me, threatened me, tied me up (although that would be fun) - I couldn't do his tasks fast enough. I had no one to blame for the misery I felt, but myself. I didn't blame him at all. 

"Jen, let's go out for a drink tonight. Come on- I need one too, me and hubby are fighting and I need to get out," Ronnie offered. 

"Sure, yes, I would love that!" I said, so relieved that I could see her, tonight of all nights.

I arrived at her house, and she was almost done primping. "Don't you want to wear something more slutty?" Ronnie asked. I had to laugh, and felt like we were back in college, right before heading to a club to pick up. 

I poured my heart out to her over shots of tequila. She was the only one I had confided in about Michael, and totally understood my dilemma.

"Jen, the very thing that frustrates you about him is the very thing that attracted you in the first place. His confidence, elusiveness... He will never be able to satisfy you. If you want this dom/sub relationship, then go local. Find it close to you and explore it."

I knew she was right, I wanted and needed more than what Michael could give me. But I couldn't really conceive of a real life affair with someone new. It seemed sordid and vile to me. And where would that leave me in the end? 

"And what if Michael ever came to New York and asked to meet me?" I asked her. 

"I'd drive you," she said without missing a beat. 

The next few days, the tears became less and less. I never tried to contact him again and deleted my profile on the chat site- it was too painful for me to see him. I explored the web for BDSM sites to learn more about what had happened and to try to fill the empty hole inside me. After awhile though, the chat site beckoned me again. It had been harmless fun and there was some pleasure in it. One day I had logged on, and Michael was online in the chat room. My heart was racing! I wondered what he thought of me now. Did he care? Or could he care less? I could have logged off, went to another room, but I steeled myself to stay, for obvious reasons. 

"Hi Petite," he called out immediately.

Ohhh....my God! What was I going to do? I sat there motionless, except for my hands, unable to keep my fingers quiet. Well, I didn't want to be rude and ignore him; it's only common courtesy to say hello. Maybe he is just being friendly.

"Hi." I said cautiously.

"You look great." he said.

"Thank you."

"Private chat?" he asked.

I was silent. 

"You're tempted, I know." he added. 

I gasped, unable to believe how confident he was, after all this time! But my heart was beating like a drum; my face on fire. Nothing had changed. He still made me weak...I wanted him now just as much as before. 

"Do it." he demanded. "Now."

"Why should I?" I asked.

"If you don't, you'll never find out." he replied, dangling the carrot in front of me.

Unbelievable the way he could get me....! He was playing with me, and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying making me squirm.

The voice inside pleaded, "Don't- don't do it! Don't give in to him!"

My body defied it, as I helplessly watched my fingers click on his name to chat.

"Hello." I said, trying to keep myself devoid of emotion.

"Private room- Michael. Password- Yours." he said, demanding that I make a private room. Whenever we had gone into a private room where only he could see me, he was the one who chose the name and password, usually referencing what was going on at the time. The names that he had chosen now were not lost on me one bit. I could not bring myself to disobey.

We started chatting privately...I was very feeling very reserved; cold. He was relaxed and in control. After a few pleasantries, he asked if I wanted to play. Play?? As though nothing had ever happened?!

"No, I can't." I said.

"Why not?"

"Because....!" I shot back, my anger going from low simmer to a boiling frenzy,"I can't just start taking my clothes off for you?! I haven't talked to you in months! There are plenty of naked women on here that you can watch!" 

"They're dull."

"You released me," I reminded him.

"And now I'm back." he said smugly.

I couldn't help but nervously smile, feeling both astounded by his confidence and direct approach as well as feeling completely intoxicated, which was slowly melting my icy interior.

"You seem so cold..." I pouted, starting to turn into a little girl, trying to illicit some affection from him.

"I only give you what you need. Admit it...You need a firm hand."

"I do, but I like when you're sweet as well."

"Should I lick your pussy and lovingly bring you to orgasm?" he asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"With everything that happened...you left....Did you even miss chatting with me?!" I scoffed.

"Of course. Do you know what kind of passion it takes? How much emotional energy you expel with that kind of intensity?" he countered. 

"Yes, I understand... It was very intense....and likely to implode." I said in agreement, my anger deflating.

"Exactly. I'm a Dom and we have to make decisions. That's the decision I made."

"Well, I have been chatting to other Doms, too."

"I'm glad you found something to amuse yourself with," he chuckled, not the least bit threatened. Did I really think I could make him jealous?

"It helps me...to be able to deal with you. I'm not as connected to you as I once was." The funny thing about that statement is that I actually believed it for a second.

"That may be true.....unless you submit to me." 

I paused... I didn't want to say yes, but I didn't want to say no either. I didn't like it this way. 

"Unless you can't handle it." he added. 

The knife went in deeply then- Michael totally unruffled by the whole situation, and willing to toss me aside again without a thought. 

"I can handle it just..Fine!" I retorted back to him, almost sounding like an indignant three year old. 

"Take off your blouse." he commanded.

And so I did. I was his again. 

For another few weeks, he toyed with me, until he tired of it. The emails started to dwindle and the writing was not just on the wall, it came over and smacked me in the face. I felt used, not all the time, but enough. I couldn't reclaim what we had before, and couldn't swallow this new arrangement. I finally confronted him about it.

"Why didn't you answer my email?" I asked him, hating that I actually had to ask that question. If you have to ask, it's already pretty obvious, but I guess I just wanted to hear him say it to my face.

"Because I sat on it too long and then it didn't feel right." he said. 

"I don't understand you- you are so erratic." 

"I am. It's just the way I'm wired. I live in the moment." he explained.

"Well, it's hard for me to deal with, never knowing if you are going to write."

"Maybe I shouldn't contact you again," he offered casually. It was just so easy for him.

"Can you understand what I mean?" I asked, feeling totally ridiculous that I had started this conversation.

"Of course." 

I knew this was heading in one direction, and it wasn't where I wanted to go, but I had no choice. "I wish you every good thing," I said.

"Likewise. I think you'll do well. Good-bye." 

I paused, knowing full well once I typed those three letters, it was over.

"Bye." 

Click. He was gone. Once again.

The only good thing about getting hurt multiple times is the callus that blankets your heart softens the blow. No tears this time. And in the back of my head, I knew that it had been over before, and he had come back. There was comfort in knowing that.

I continued chatting with other Doms, researching sites, what I liked, didn't like, and now I wasn't afraid to say it. Months had gone by and I was evolving, but still not settled. My thoughts would often go back to Michael, and I re-read our stories, sometimes relieving it and yet, as the months went on, it seemed unreal to me. Did all of that really happen? Did I actually buy lingerie and pose myself; take pictures and send them to a stranger? It still didn't fit...I still didn't fit, in where I was supposed to be.

I started to write my feelings down, exactly what I felt in my gut. A constant hunger...an ache....a wanting....a craving....

The beginning of a new story-mine. At the very least it would be cathartic. But how was I going to publish our stories without Michael's consent? Hmmm, this created a problem. It had been months since we had been in contact. Would he even answer me after all this time?

I wrote him an email, short and sweet, asking him for his permission. I really had no ulterior motives at this point, and was not trying to drop my handkerchief in front of him. Was I curious? Of course, but I had no expectations. A week went by with no response. Okay, that's fine, I thought. At least I have my answer.

But then- it came.

A message from him sitting there, staring at me, and waiting to be opened. 

"Hello Jen,

Of course I have no problem with you publishing them minus any details of course...

I always enjoyed our exchanges -- you were a worthy and inventive respondent.

I'd love to rekindle our writing relationship -- feel free to step into my office, appropriately dressed of course, any time you like... I feel we both might enjoy something a little more relaxed..."

I had to admit it; I was elated that Michael wanted to write with me again. But, the wall was up and I was determined to have it remain that way. I foolishly thought that I could handle a more relaxed correspondence...no tasking, no pictures- just writing. I loved writing with him, his dominance, creativity, and eloquence. Could I really say no?

"Thank you, Michael. If I ever do decide to publish them, you will be the first to know. What a lovely invitation..."Knock-knock."

I rise from my desk, walk over to the heavy oak door to my office.

An unexpected visitor...

I turn the smooth brass knob with my right hand, open the door and find... what, I wonder have you chosen to wear?

**

Wearing a stunning, red silk dress, v-neckline, brown leather belt, with knee high black suede high-heeled boots...I am dressed to kill.

The last few months quiet, I am hungry for some inspiration...this should do nicely.

Michael.

Yearning to quell this craving, I decide to see him. 

The heavy door opens. Looking inquisitive at first, he then smiles and welcomes me inside.

I walk in, and hear the door close behind, the click of the lock follows.

** The smooth, shiny chrome mechanism is operated with a small, jagged key. The noise you hear is the meeting of two expertly cast pieces of metal locking together, snapping shut. Escape is impossible.

So, you've returned. Changed I feel. More confident, but tense, craving. I can smell your perfume and beneath it the scent of anticipation.

You're dressed to kill. Or are you dressed to be killed? I wonder. Predator or prey?

I let my eyes run over your body. The way the silk clings to your curves, caressing them then springing away. So much energy, fire, barely contained by the brown leather at your waist.

I walk round you, taking in every detail. I wonder if you're wearing anything underneath. I let my eyes meet yours. Defiant?

But I knew you'd return...

How do you feel?

**

Although feeling fight or flight, of which, with that door locked, there will be no flight, I remain steadfast in my resolve.

My head cocked to one side, right hand on hip, "Yes, I've returned....After all, how could I refuse such a lovely invitation? You've missed me, haven't you?" more of a statement than a question.

I return your gaze, and drink you in from head to toe. 

That hair....sets my teeth on edge. I begin to imagine running my fingers through those chocolate brown curls, and tearing at it as I.....slightly shaking my head, I come back to the moment. 

Deliberately, I drift away from you, and casually stroll around to your desk. I suggestively trace my fingers across the smooth top of the magnificent oak bed, delaying the hot fuck I came for...

Underneath my dress, a red, satin push-up bra with matching crotchless panties awaits you...feeding that precious insatiable fetish of yours....you see, I secretly still want to please you. Defiant, no.

Needing correction, yes.

**

"So you've come to seduce me? How pleasing. But you can't just expect to walk in here and get what you want."

Despite myself, you can see I'm hard under the thin material of my suit trousers. It's clear I want you, my eyes betray my passionate desire. But I'm in control... just. 

"It's time to see what you've learnt." I indicate a chair, sleek, black leather and chrome, no arms but with a number of chrome loops running down the back. Ornamentation?

You sit, as ordered, brushing my hand with the red silk of the dress as you pass me. From my desk I take two pairs of chrome handcuffs. Taking each wrist, I cuff you too the chair. You realise, at the touch there are small spikes on the inside of the cuff around each wrist. Just sharp enough to dig in if you move against the restraints. Something for you to concentrate on.

Back to my desk, I take a red ball gag and fasten it around your neck. Roughly I kiss you, touching those divine lips, tasting you for the first time in too long. Then the gag is in and the strap tightened....

With a strip of red satin I blindfold you.

How do you feel?

**

Besides wet? A few things....Enslaved, physically yes. Very telling that you felt I needed so many restraints....the blindfold especially surprised me; I thought you would love to watch the windows- straight to my heart. The point in time when you watch my emotional resignation to your will. Ahh, but maybe you'll surprise me. 

Oh yes, I did notice your desire. With the ball gag on, it makes it doubly hard not to salivate just thinking about that delicious prize.

The only thing I can move is my legs, which though trembling, are tensed for what's to come. 

Now, can we talk about that kiss? It's probably good that you did pull away so quickly....I would have lost it otherwise.

***

I step back to look at my slave, seeing your legs trembling. It's good that you're tense and nervous for what's to come.

I love to see that...

There will be plenty of time to look into your eyes later. For now I'm going to play with you, exploit the profound uncertainty that blindness delivers.

You cannot be sure what's happening to you and you cannot ask as the gag renders you dumb. How delicious. Listen...

I take my shoes off so you cannot hear me moving around you. You hear me unlock the door. Open it, close it.

Have I left? Did I let someone in? Are you alone or on show? Did I switch places with someone? You hear the sound of a blind being pulled up. Was it at the window or was it the internal blind that covers the glass wall of my office? Am I sharing you, subjugated?

You feel a hand stroke your neck, tracing the line of your dress. How beautifully it meets your flesh. My hand or another's?

You hear the click of a camera from across the room. The hand guides your head to face the origin of the noise. You feel the cool shock of metal against your skin, then the snip of a scissor blade. The dress goes limp as its cut open down the middle...

More clicks, with each snip. Surely there must be another at the camera.

How do you feel?

**

There is no denying it; the benign milieu of the office has turned. 

Unlike the superficial sting I feel on my wrists, the sheer magnitude of my vulnerability cuts deep.

The blindness.... the most cumbersome restraint. 

My remaining senses heightened, the ticking-- the clock and of my heart, are the only sounds I can hear.

The internal conversation begins, trying to soothe me. "Relax...this is exactly what you came for, isn't it. To be completely overwhelmed?"

A hand strokes the tender flesh of my neck. I try desperately not to make a sound. The faint scent of cologne surrounds me, Versace? 

I believe it's you touching me, caressing me...you wouldn't give up that pleasure to another, the delicious satisfaction of feeling my body tremble, the pulse of my heart racing...to feel the deep ache I have for you, so palpable.

My dress falls leaving me almost completely exposed.

I can't control it any longer....and hear the sound of a faint whimper, my own. 

Maybe he does mean to kill me? 

**

Bright light, harsh, blinding, as the blindfold is removed, you glance down at your ruined dress, a jagged red scrap of satin, twisted and mangled by the sharp scissors...

The next thing you see is a camera, digital SLR, mounted on a tripod. It clicks, but there's nobody there..

The window is open, sun streams in, lighting you to perfection, in your eyes. I hold the remote control for the camera in front of your eyes, click off a couple of frames...

How beautiful you look. The ball gag, pulled tight, adds a certain something to your expression, perhaps a forced attitude of submission....

A phone rings. You watch as I walk over to my desk, pick up the handset and begin a conversation. From what I say, it's not immediately clear what I'm talking about, but the topic is decidedly un-professional...

I walk over to you. You hear me ask the caller what they're wearing. The response is inaudible, but I smile. As I listen to the phone, I start to touch you.. My fingers stroke your neck, down your chest, over your skin, trace your breasts through your bra, over your abdomen. 

Your pussy is framed by your crotchless panties. You feel my fingers enter you, as I look into your eyes, listening to the phone... You're warm to the touch, glossy and wet. I wonder when you last fucked anyone, whether you're up to what I'm going to do to you..

I rub your g spot hard as I say "gotta go" to the phone, hang up and drop the handset...

Can you handle it?

**

The blindfold is removed, and as my eyes adjust, I hear the click of the camera...on tripod. The ruse revealed, my body relaxes....until the phone rings. I gaze down at what's left of my dress, so pretty, the color...like the color of that nail polish I saw at Sephora..What was the name of it..? Oh yes, Brunette on the Internet...love those cute little names! I will pick up the polish, and then make dinner..hmm, what should I make, the salmon or steak? The salmon, definitely..with that Thai dipping sauce...Oh wait, where was I? The office, that's right...my mind must have drifted off...

It does that when it gets bored.

I guess he is off the phone now...should I finish this? I mean, he seems distracted, and my time is extremely valuable to me.

I casually meet his gaze....one eyebrow raised in a question.

**

I meet your gaze with a cool, calm expression and remove my fingers.

I was mistaken. It is clearly not pleasure you need right now, it is something else. Something much darker...

Very well, you have provoked me. I wonder if you're ready for what that entails? Such concerns however are irrelevant. I think it's time for you to face the consequences of your actions...




Bougeotte Ch. 04



First, the smooth cold steel of the scissors bites hard into your bra, leaving it flopping open, ruined, your breasts naked, on show...

You watch me walk over to the desk and withdraw a small black leather case. I walk over to you, open it so you can see a selection of hollow medical needles in sterile tubes...

I lay the open case on your leg.I bend my head and suck your right nipple, roughly, bite it.. Then, I rub it with a little alcohol gel.

Selecting a medium needle, I cup your breast with one hand, two fingers holding the nipple in place. Then I place the tip of the needle on the nipple. Slowly, stopping to look into your eyes, I pierce you, then snap a cold metal ring, shut after slipping it through the hole...

**

A silent scream. 

The pain is excruciating....though easier to take then the injury to my ego when he was on the phone...he knows I don't like to share.

A piercing....is the initial "M" carved into the ring..? I wonder.

Does this mean I'm yours?

Good, I'm glad I provoked you. Yes, this is darker, but oh...so sweetly satisfying. 

You've just given me exactly what I wanted....you.

Now that we have that cleared up....

....Just what are you going to do with me 

I think we both know the answer. ~~

**

Our writing intensified and we slowly slipped into our old patterns; a sidebar of emails almost every day, each one pulling me in deeper with no desire nor willpower to stop it. 

It was inevitable; Michael asked me to meet with him online in video chat. He could see me, but unfortunately I never had the pleasure of seeing him. His eyes were heavy. Erotic though, adding to the already heightened intensity. The want inside me was tangible- beyond what I had ever felt before. Surely he could see it in my eyes.

The interaction that followed left me with a deep throbbing ache in my chest that I carried around the rest of the day- my heart captured.

I was losing control at rapid speed. I emailed him the next day and we met online again. My emotions were frazzled....I shouldn't have come on. He asked me to remove my lingerie, and with that, I lost all sense of self assurance. It would have been easier to strip for a stranger. After all this time and all that I had previously shared with him, I was still not able to let go- to completely lose myself in his eyes. The wall was long gone, and I mentally crumbled right in front of him. I redressed quickly, and told him I had to go. 

"I was a little too vulnerable there. Michael- I don't want to get used to this," I began.

"Used to what?" he asked.

"Used to.....You." I confessed.

"Well, tonight is just for tonight," he replied casually.

We must have a moment of silence here.....

Okay, I cannot even begin to convey how much he hurt me by saying that. He might as well have been doing the Mexican Hat Dance on my heart. Did ANY OF THIS.....mean ANYTHING to him....AT ALL?? I mean, why the hell am I here then? Why doesn't he go to one of a hundred chat sites and watch some gorgeous porn star perform, who could do so much more than I could or would anyway? How could I be so wrong about all of this? Why did I feel so much? And he, so little? I wanted to fucking scream. But I smiled, nodded, and said my good-byes.

The last thing he said to me was "Ponder." 

This good-bye was harder than the last. I was furious -with myself. Why had I let this happen again? I poured my emotions into my writing, completed my story and titled it Wanderlust, for this intimate erotic journey of self discovery. 

It was published and I received some nice feedback. Out of courtesy, I emailed Michael to let him know it was published. It contained some of his writing, and I just wanted to let him know what was out there and where he could find it. Truly that was my only intention. 

I received a simple reply from him that he would like to read it. No emotion, no nothing. Was I hurt? Maybe a little, but not surprised, and not devastated. I sent him the link and that was that. 

I began to read other stories on the site; some of the writing was phenomenal. I started to email other writers on the site, and got involved in some role-play writing, which I wasn't sure I would like, with no connection behind it, but it turned out to be a lifesaver. Meanwhile, I kept writing my Wanderlust story and added the next few chapters of my adventures with Michael.

Months had passed. One day, I logged on to the site and saw I had an anonymous email from someone who read my story. I clicked on it and gasped.

XXX

That was all it said. Now what? Was this from Michael, or someone playing a game with me? I let a few weeks pass, but then my curiosity got the better of me. I sent Michael a message on our chat site, "Were those from you?"

A reply. "See email." I was dying.

Nervously I logged on to my email, and there it was. 

Subject heading, "Can you handle it?" 

To be continued...



Bougeotte Ch. 05



Can I handle it?

I exhaled deeply and smiled. Good question, I thought. Can I? I really wasn't sure if I could, but I went ahead and responded anyway. I know, believe me, I know what you're thinking. You stupid silly woman. I can't agree with you more. Just like I can't explain the pull that he had on me. It defied all common sense and rational thought. I was getting more confident each time we came together again and after being apart for a few months I felt stronger. I had my role-play stories and was more settled than I had ever been. 

But- still fully aware of what happened in the past, multiple times. Michael disappearing, "poof" like smoke. Did I want to go through that again? No, of course not. But could I ignore him? Not answer his email? Really, there was no decision to make. This was going to play out again and again, until either he would tell me to leave him alone permanently, or I would finally wise up. 

"You didn't answer my question," I replied.

"You're not asking the questions." he returned. I laughed, slightly shaking my head. There was the Michael I knew and....ahem. So typical, and yet this is why I kept coming back to him.

"LOL, I can handle anything you give, or not give me. I'm still here, aren't I? Still evolving, stronger....deeper.....darker. SOooooo.....were those kisses from You?"

"What are you wearing?" he asked, totally ignoring me. 

"A black lace bra, royal blue thong with rhinestones, and just 2 drops of perfume."

I asked him if he would accept my invitation to get on messenger to make it easier to chat, and after several frustrating attempts, it finally connected. 

"Take a deep breath," he said.

"I'm breathing just fine, thank you," I replied, totally lying through my teeth. 

"I'd like to see that." Ohhh dear! He was so erotic to me..I could hardly stand it. "I like your new profile," referring to our chat/cam site. 

"Yeah? What do you like about it?" 

"I like how it still centers around me," he replied confidently, noticing most of the pictures I had posted were previous tasks he had given me.

"LMAO, Oh, really?" 

"Denying it?" 

"So, did you send me those kisses?" I asked, going back to my original question.

"No, I didn't send them."

"Oh, someone must have been playing with me- I have to go," hearing my husband pulling up in the driveway. It was a good thing though. I wasn't going to message him again. If he truly did not send those kisses to me, well then, I was not going to be an afterthought. If he wanted to chat on Monday, he knew where to find me. 

So I was pleasantly surprised and thrilled when I logged on to my email Monday morning. "Hard to get those rhinestones out of my head. I'd like you to choose an outfit and wear it for me today."

Here we go. It's on. The question is....for how long? I started to chant a mantra in my head- "He's going to leave you. He's going to leave you. He's going to leave you." Maybe if I told myself that enough times, I wouldn't be so devastated when he did. I scooted upstairs, showered and picked out something that might please him.

"I love to dress for you," I replied, "I'm wearing a black pencil skirt above the knee, turquoise satin shell with black lace and a black blazer. Along with thigh high stockings and black heels. And in return...?" hoping he would be pleased and reward me. 

"On your knees. You've done well. How do you feel mon petite tentatatrice? Going out somewhere nice? Perhaps in return I should lecher ton petit minou?" Ohhh, his French! My stomach turned over as I tried to translate it online. His little temptress? Lick my little kitty? Kill me, kill me now. 

"Gladly...love to be on my knees. I feel sexy, and naughty, and....wet, very wet. Be careful- don't make promises you can't keep. Although I would love to watch and feel you between my legs, lapping up my heat." 

"I enjoyed your writing," he offered, "It made me want to get my claws out again. But perhaps I'm not as heartless as you make out -- I resisted."

"My writing, do you mean Bougeotte? Love the thought of your claws coming out....you resisted what? Writing to me? Because?" Though he always maintained a cool composure, I knew- deep down inside, he was thoughtful. There were so many times over the year that I had known him, when he could have torn me to shreds- but he never did. "I think under that impervious exterior lies a compassionate heart- not heartless."

"I resisted writing to you because I thought it might do you good to have a break from being toyed with... I can scratch very deeply if I'm not careful." The newly healed scars on my heart tingled with remembrance.

"I see you've become a lot more confident," he added, "Perhaps I should reward you or maybe I should punish you -- teach you your place. Perhaps you think you've already found your place and have nothing more to learn. I wonder."

I loved this little dance back and forth. Me, acting as if I had some power, which, maybe in a way I did. But ultimately, like two wolves trying to determine the Alpha, I knew very soon I would be lying on my back in submission -his jaws clamped tightly around my neck. 

"More confident yes, that's true. You know that I like to provoke you, poke you....more hostility, lust each time. As for reward or punishment, that's not up to me to decide. As for learning, I have so much to learn. So much more...." I exhaled. 

"Taste yourself and describe it to me. For your next lesson, I shall teach you humility. I have decided that you need to remember how to obey. Will you submit?" he asked, the gauntlet thrown.

"My taste....warm, exotic, sweet, vanilla melting on my tongue. As for your scratches, they seem to have disappeared. My fair white flesh is begging. I submit." And there it was. 

Get ready.....Wait for it.....

"Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it," he returned, "I want you to take some fruit, chop it into pieces, rub each piece all over your sex and devour it. Then I want you to come for me, screaming my name. I'm glad those scratches have vanished. Maybe it's time to cause some new ones. Then, with the addition of a little salt, you'll have an education. Lessons you won't forget." he responded darkly, in true Michael form. "I have a task for you -- within the next two days I want to see you in a satin blouse. A gold one I think unless you prefer another colour? Also, I'd like to know if you still have your wedding dress?" 

Whaaaaaat? Cut up fruit? Rubbed all over my body? I shivered. It's not only "on"; it's full speed ahead- no polite build-up this time. He had launched an emotional speed ball and I sucked it all up -like a word slut junkie. 

The next morning, I went to the grocery store to pick out what I needed. This was an absolutely delicious task and the orgasm that followed was one to remember. I sent him a narrative of my experience and pictures of me lying on my bed, my naked body adorned with strawberries and cherries.

"How beautifully you fulfill my expectations ma petite esclave," he replied. "Which taste did you like best? Les cerises? Les fraises? As you know, the sweetest taste for me is the flavour of your "submission." 

"The flavor of my submission...." I sighed, his words seeping into my every pore. 

He asked me to meet him on video chat and I had a feeling of absolute dread! All I could think of was my previous failures on cam. I knew if I didn't try to relax and give in to his requests, I would lose him. So, I poured myself a glass of wine. Yes, I was still 'working' and it was two o'clock in the afternoon, but I was going to do whatever I had to do to hold on to him.

I did as he asked. He played with me like a toy and told me to undress. Starting to feel a buzz, I was actually enjoying it for the first time. Somewhere during the chat, he mentioned that he would call me. 

Pause. Rewind.

Did I read what I think I just read? A call? 

"Michael, how are you going to call me?" I gasped.

"You sent me your phone number." I had forgotten-I had sent him a formal work email for fun, and my contact info was included. 

"If you want to call me, I have a secret number." I bought one of those pay as you go phones just for this reason, but never expected it could actually happen. The video chat got hot and heavy, and I finally surrendered to him, completely.

I wasn't sure what I would wake up to the next morning. I had bared everything and I mean- EVERYTHING- on cam the day before and even though I didn't regret it, it was one of those moments where I was feeling embarrassed to face him, not knowing how he would feel about me now. However, a lovely email awaited me.

"Delicious memories of yesterday. I tried to call your number from my office, but I wasn't able to make it work. I am going away for the holidays but will contact you when I return. I look forward to seeing you in a gold blouse, I know you won't disappoint." 

During the break, I went out of my way to take beautiful pictures for him. Wearing a black satin blouse with backgrounds of gold satin material, thigh high stockings and his initial in rhinestones adorning my pussy. 

He was pleased. "You look sensational, as always. I'd like you to tell me the story behind the photos and also to explain why there isn't one of you buttoned up. Perhaps I should punish you?" he said.

My stomach fluttered wildly. Starting to feel the pull, I gently reminded myself that he was on his way out.

**********

We were at the end of a long, enjoyable chat one day and with trepidation I asked, "Michael, consider this....leave me a phone message before you leave work? We don't have to chat. I just want to hear your voice."

"What would you like me to say?"

"Anything....anything would sound delicious with your beautiful accent." I was literally sitting on pins and needles, waiting to see what he would say. 

"If the phone rings, I insist you pick up and say, 'This is Jennifer.'" he said.

"Okay, but why?" Oh my God, we're going to chat?? Fuck!

"Because I also want to hear your voice and I am in control."

"Mmmm, yes you are." I can't even tell you how nervous I was waiting for the phone to ring. How very high school! I had bared my body and soul to him but the thought of actually speaking to him on the phone was terrifying!

Ringggg......

"Hello?"

"You haven't done as I asked," he chided in a beautiful British accent. Michael's tones were deep and masculine. He had the sexiest voice that I had ever heard. Can I faint now?

"This is Jennifer." I said quickly.

"What are you wearing?"

"Jeans and a blouse." I started to sweat and paced the floor.

"I'd like you to slip those jeans off for me. How do you feel?"

Like my fucking brain is going to explode. "Excited..." 

"You can do better than that."

I giggled, "Well, I AM excited to hear your voice, finally." 

"So what does it make you want to do?" 

"Lay on my bed..." my voice becoming softer.

"Is that where you are now?"

"Yes, Sir." 

"Strip." I quickly removed all my clothing. 

"I'm completely naked," feeling so nervous it was almost an out of body experience.

"Cum for me." he demanded.

"Are you hard Master?" 

"Rock."

"Ohh my God...." I couldn't believe it was happening. My brain couldn't catch up with the now. I was listening to the voice of my online obsession for the first time- almost a year and a half from our first chat.

"Cum for me, my little slave."

"Say it in French...." I begged.

"Ma petite esclave...." he thundered.

"I want you..." I exhaled softly; my head was swimming in ecstasy. 

"Say my name." Is this fucking happening? I was so turned on by his dominance, my eyes were quivering.

"Michael...Michael....Oh God, I'm going to cum for you."

"Finish it," he demanded.

"Ohh God Oh God...Michaelllllll!" I gasped over and over as the orgasm overtook me, my body twisting in the rumpled sheets on my bed. I sunk into the mattress in absolute rapture and tried to catch my breath.

"Now, was that so hard?" he asked playfully.

"No," giggling.

"Did you like your reward?"

"Yes..." I cooed, "I loved hearing your voice."

"Did you think you deserved it?"

I laughed, "I don't know, did I?"

"I think so...keep pleasing me and perhaps I shall reward you again. I have to go... Goodbye."

"Bye..." I was high, and floated down the stairs in a dream-like state. I heard his voice. He called me. From London!

Something started to happen. Was it the lengths I went to please him? Dominating me completely on cam? Deeper and deeper it went-chatting online almost every day. The intensity was rising steadily and I felt the end was coming soon. I had to do something! 

"Master, I have a suggestion. I will complete the next task, and we can enjoy each other for the next day or so, then we can take a break. This will keep things fresh and we can have something to look forward to."

The intensity of our liaison had so much fire, that a break was necessary in order to maintain it. Did I want that? No, not at all. But if I didn't initiate a break, I was going to end up getting one anyway. He agreed and of course totally took over the who, how, when, why, and what of the whole thing but that suited me just fine. After all, I wanted him in control. 

He decided it would last a month with the conditions as follows. I would dress with him in mind every day. I could come by myself on cam twice a week in the open chat room, saying nothing, just announcing when I came with the cam pointed at my pussy. I would suck my husband off every Saturday, fully clothed in an outfit he chose. Other than that, I could have sex with my husband as usual. And on the day we returned from break, I would provide a picture for him of my choice.

The week of the reunion was the 14th of February, so I took several sexy pictures in whites and pinks for his first Valentine's presents. Pictures sent, and no word from him. Hmmm, this was concerning. I couldn't help but feel disappointed and hurt. Finally at the very end of the day, an email arrived.

"Well, well, pretty in pink. I look forward to more presents."

What? Something was off. The next day, I woke to an abrupt email. "Ma petite esclave, I can't chat today but that is no reason to be idle. I enjoyed the fruits of your labor. Today, I'd like you to wear your fanciest dress today for me, as if you were going to the opera."

My teeth clenched hard. You can only put yourself out so much before it starts to wear on you. Usually when I had taken beautiful pictures for him, he greatly showed his appreciation. Now, not so much. He actually seemed irritated and put off.

"Why? Are you taking me to the opera?" I scoffed.

"Did I say I was taking you there? Perhaps I just want you dressed that way."

"I think you are forgetting something."

"What am I forgetting?"

"You liked the fruits of my labor? Quid pro quo. To elaborate Michael, I would like a picture of you, one of your face and not from 20 ft away. Do you think it terribly outrageous? I hope not, I want to see you." Literally with no exaggeration, over the last year and a half I must have taken and sent him almost one hundred pictures.

Just as I expected, no reply. 

Two weeks passed, but my anger didn't. In the meantime, I was still active on the cam website and started to post my sexual role-play stories. I liked to share it with everyone, but of course, I had an ulterior motive. He never showed the least bit of jealousy but it couldn't hurt to try. Oh, the games! Finally, he started to appear available on instant message. After a few days of ignoring him, which was terribly difficult for me to do, I put on my light.

"Intriguing." he began.

"Hello Michael. How so?"

"I enjoyed your story." 

"Thank you."

"How have you been?" he asked casually.

"Fine, thank you. And you?"

"Not too bad, snowed over in work, this is a rare breather." 

I loved this non-conversation that had to happen before someone was going to give. "Well, I hope it gets better for you soon." I replied, tossing the ball over the net again. 

"Thank you."

Crickets....

"Why did you log onto your Gmail?" he asked. Okay-here we go. 

"Because I saw that you were online."

"So you were hoping I'd chat," he said smugly.

"I made myself available; it wasn't up to me to get in touch."

"And what were you hoping for?"

Damn it! He was an absolute master at this. "Well, I would hope you would say hello, yes." 

"Good, I'm glad. I have to go soon, but should be in chat much later."

"Do you want to chat with me?" I asked.

"How do you feel?"

I could have lied or still played it cool, but I didn't want to play games- I still felt so connected to him. "Michael, I missed you."

"How much?"

".......You're in my dreams."

"On your knees." he commanded.

"Ohh God..." 

"Are you?!" he asked angrily.

"Yes.." I whimpered. 

"If I decide to reward you, I will. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir. More to say about that though."

"Oh?"

"Yes, may I speak?"

"Pinch the skin on your inner left thigh." he said.

"Yes, Sir."

"You may speak."

"I don't ask for things to be equal, but I do think there needs to be some give and take." Even though he didn't acknowledge it, I knew at some basic level he did understand.

"Pinch your right thigh."

"Yes, Sir."

"Slap your face."

"Yes, Sir." 

"If you beg, I may choose to reward you."

"Please please Master, please reward me with a picture of you, I so want to see you, just as you have seen me."

"What are you wearing?" he asked.

"Black pants, white buttoned shirt, black heels."

"Strip." 

Oh my God..."Yes, Sir."

"Pinch your clit."

"Yes, Sir."

"Harder ma petite esclave."

"Yes, Sir."

"Open your email," he said finally.

And there it was...a close up picture of his beautiful face. He was absolutely breathtaking, but we'll get to that in a second.

"Thank you for sending it Master- I love it!"

"I will also be looking for a present in the meantime. Good-bye for now."

"Good-night. Smiles."

Okay, back to his picture! He was more gorgeous than I had imagined. His hair was dark brown and fell between curls and waves- just begging to be tugged. Icy green eyes, perfectly shaped lips, and a full beard of trimmed hair, very trendy- like a scruff, that was brown with glints of red. He was so fucking hot. It was hard to believe he had waited this long to show me.

I called my best friend immediately. "I have a picture of his face....." I sang.

"No! Send it to me immediately!"

"Okay, did you get it yet?" I asked.

"O-M-G, Jen! He is so hot! Ohh, that hair!"

"I know! Can you believe it?" My face was on fire.

"He's a baby!" she gushed, in reference to our age difference.

"I know," giggling. 

"You know you're going to pay for this! He is absolutely furious that he had to send you that. Expect to be punished," she predicted. 

Our dangerous liaison continued over the next few months, with small breaks here and there. It was torture at times, and there was never a guarantee of contact. Was it becoming more than just a sexual release for him? We often spoke of how much we would like to meet (read: fuck) each other in person. With him being in London and me in the US, it was almost an impossibility. It didn't stop us from talking about it though, especially when he saw me on cam, when he really opened up to me. What once was something I dreaded was now when I felt closest to him.

At the end of a long cam session after we both came he asked casually,"So, New York is somewhere you could get to?"

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. What? What was he saying?

"Y-Yes," I replied, my body paralyzed with shock. He could tell.

"Tell me what you're thinking." he said. 

I paused. "Are you teasing me?"

"I never tease."

"Are you coming?" feeling ready to jump out of my skin.




Bougeotte Ch. 05



"You will know when I want you to know."

"Michael, please....are you?" I begged.

"I already told you Jennifer." I had to drop it.

We continued chatting for a few more minutes and then said good night.

I squealed and grabbed my cell, "OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!"

"TELL MEEEE!!!" Ronnie replied.

"He is talking about coming to NYC!!!!"

"Oh my God Jen, I told you he was going to get on a plane!!"

I couldn't have been happier. Could this be happening? Was he really going to fly 3500 miles to see me?

I was so excited the next morning when I logged onto my email and saw a message from him. My mouth hung open as I read the subject line- "A Break."

A break? What?? My heart sank. I opened it nervously. 

"Ma petite esclave,

I've decided I need to take a break from our liaison for a while. Quite simply, its intensity is getting too much for me and I can't allow that to happen. I have enjoyed it more than I can possibly sum up in a few glib statements. Suffice to say you are an extraordinary individual with a rare talent for submission. I wish you much happiness in the future."

Goodbye, for now.

Yours, as ever,

M xxx

Believe it or not, the first thing I did was smile. I knew he would be back- he told me so. But for him to take a break on the heels of our chat yesterday? This was big.

Of course, the smile faded fast. That first week was torture. This is what it must feel like to go insane. My heart ached for him- I cried, sobbed really. And leaned hard on Ronnie for support, endlessly asking her for assurance. All I could do was wait.

"Jen, for him to send you that email, can you imagine what is going on inside his head? He signed it - "as ever", with a pause looking at me with telling eyes....."for-ever..."

A few days later she called, "Jen, are you sitting down?"

"No, why?"

"Listen- my brother has to travel for work. He has three trips scheduled next year, one is to London. So, here is what my evil brain is thinking. I want to go, and I want you to come with me. You could see Michael."

Knowing my life situation- husband, kids, work, my suburban life, I half dismissed it as impossible at first. But then, I thought, why not? Why shouldn't I be allowed to go? But it was still very far off, and practically a fantasy.

Meanwhile, the weeks passed and I still hadn't heard anything from Michael. I started to keep an online diary and wrote it in when I felt my head starting to unravel, almost like a desperate prayer---"How can I explain how I am feeling? My emotions go from feeling confident that he will return, to ultimate despair that he no longer wants me. At the same time, I feel so foolish...a 42 yr old married mother of two, actually thinking that a gorgeous British 29 yr old man could want me. I can't think- can't put two thoughts together. My husband and children are talking to me, and I have no idea what they are saying. I keep checking my email, like some teenager, waiting for that instant messenger green light to go on, and staring at his picture. Then I curse myself for being so pathetic, and try to focus on work and I can't do it! I can't focus on anything but him. What am I going to do? When will this stop?"

Almost three weeks to the day, he finally appeared on instant messenger. I took a deep breath and set my status as "available." 

"I can hear your breathing," he began.

"Can you?" I whimpered.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I miss you."

"Why?"

Why? He's never asked me why before. What do I say? "Because I..." Because I lo- "Because I have strong feelings for you," I said, rethinking my reply, "How are you, Michael?" 

"Tempted again."

"Why?" I asked, mimicking his question.

"Your submission. It's like a fire."

We continued as if we had never parted. Everything was great.... everything that is, except for the pain in my heart whenever he wasn't available to chat. He still never gave me a warning. It could be two days; it could be 6 days- absolute torture! Because every time he was silent, I still had that nagging fear the he may not come back. 

I started to break down and cry in the middle of the day...for no reason. I was overwhelmed and was losing my composure. The ironic thing was, I knew this was crazy. It was so unnerving. Here I was, a married mother of two, a professional in my career, who has everything I have ever wanted and hoped for. So to feel this strung out over an online liaison was incomprehensible to me. But that is exactly what was happening! 

Another diary entry after I didn't chat with him for only two days----"I miss him, ache for him, want to be near him. My heart is totally overreacting in grief for no reason. I was unable to stop crying last night, sobbing- tears falling on my pillow.....woke up today, same thing....knowing I have to end it, get a break from it.....knowing I will have to send him an email." 

My Master,

I need to take a break for a little while. I'll be going to the beach this weekend, and as I walk along the sand and look out at the majestic Atlantic, I'll think of you and whisper your name....

Always,

Ta petite esclave, Jen..xx

He pursued me the next day, his light on. I was too weak and had to ignore him. It was killing me, but there was no other option. I prayed to God for strength. After a few consecutive days of this, I couldn't bear it any longer and put my light on.

"I thought you were taking a break," he began.

"Do you want me to?"

"Do you want to?" He wouldn't even toss me a crumb.

"I did take a break, I just needed a breather," I explained.

"Why did you need a breather?"

I wasn't going to reveal how heartsick I felt. "I just needed to step back for a moment."

"How was it?" he asked sarcastically.

He could always make me laugh. "LOL, it was good for me, although it didn't stop me from thinking about you. Did you hear me whisper your name?"

"When did you whisper it?"

"Saturday, looking out at the ocean. Did you miss me?"

"I do, but I think you need a longer break," he replied, "I think I will give you a week Friday. Have a relaxing time, M xxx"

He was gone. And in control, as always. A week and a half went by and Friday couldn't come soon enough. I logged on and he was there. 

He was borderline cool to me at first. "You are very business like today," I remarked. 

"You need a firm hand." 

He was right about that but maybe he was also keeping his emotions in check? It was like he was holding back, and I didn't know what to make of it. We had a nice chat with a huge orgasm at the end, but something was missing. I told him I better get back to work but asked him if he would kiss me before he left.

"Yes, I will. A deep long kiss, lips pressed together, tongues entwined." he replied, dazzling me with his eloquence.

"Mmmm Master," I murmured.

"My saliva mixing with yours as it leaks into your upturned mouth," he added. Sweet Jesus....help me! My eyelids were fluttering.

"Ohh Michael, you are so erotic...."

"Swallow." Yes, you read it right, he just told me to swallow. 

"Yess... whimpering." I cried.

"Spit into your hand."

"Yes, Sir."

"Again." he commanded.

"OMG...."

"Make a little pool."

"Yes Sir," I exhaled, spitting into my palm as he directed.

"Rub it all over your face and neck."

"Yes, Sir....you are so hot.. all over...Shall I imagine it's yours?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Softly moaning...Yes, Master, I'm yours."

"Pinch your nipples through the pvc."

"Yes Sir."

"Harder you little slut," he hissed. My eyes blazed with fire!

"Ohh Fuck Yesss.... Michael- You really would kill me.."

"I'd tear you apart..."

"Ohhh my God...." I can't even tell you how turned on I was at this point.

"Unzip completely."

"Yesss Sir, open for you," I said, leaning back in my chair.

"Pinch them harder," he demanded angrily.

"Ohhh Yes Sir, I'm your slut Michael, I'll do whatever you ask," I said, reeling with desire.

"Smear your saliva all over your breasts," he said.

"Mmmm Yes, Sir, my wet hard nipples- I want you."

"When's your flight?" he asked.

Pause. A moment of silence for what he just said to me. Continue.

"KILL ME NOW... I want you to fuck me so hard.. tear my clothes off," my body and mind in a frenzy.

"I'd love you to walk into my office right now, I'm in the mood to abuse my position...."

"Fuck...Yess," I whispered.

"....and by proxy, you." he added.

"Ohh I wish you could."

"So, when's your plane get into Heathrow?" he repeated. 

"From your lips....I may have the chance," I confessed. "Or you could be my Englishman in New York...?"

"You may have the chance?" he asked.

I hadn't planned on revealing this right now, but our play traveled in this direction so I went with it and told him everything. 

"How intriguing. I wonder what you'd find to entertain yourself in London, with a hotel room at your disposal," he mused.

"All kinds of things, I suppose." I said coyly, "But, we'll see- If....it happens, it could be next year. I am not sure of the time frame."

"I fear for the plane ride home, you'll be so uncomfortable," he said.

"Are you planning on fucking my brains out Michael?"

"You won't have anything left by the end," he answered, "Not a thing."

"I know- absolutely. It's frightening actually."

"Oh?"

"A little....you wouldn't hurt me too much, would you? I need a safe word."

"Your safe word is vanilla," he said. 

Vanilla.....How apropos, I thought.

***********

Over the next few weeks, our chats had a renewed energy. There were so many avenues to explore in this liaison now and I could feel his excitement at the prospect of meeting up in person. We talked about every little detail, from the time and place, to all my fears and anxiety. He seemed to soften a bit, not in dominance- but in his heart. He never said anything but it was there. Wasn't it? When I look back at emails between us from months ago, it seemed like we had grown so much closer. But was that all in my head? I never knew for sure. All I knew was that I couldn't stay away, so I just let myself fall for him. I knew in the end my heart was going to be pulverized, but breaking contact was not an option.

Summer arrived. We agreed to a break due to my situation at home. My kids and husband would be home for the next few months and it was going to be nearly impossible to chat. In all of these chapters, I guess I have never really mentioned my real life. My kids and I have a great relationship. I love them with all my heart so I do feel guilty about my fooling around. They know nothing of my affair, nor my husband's chats online. The little I have seen of my husband's chats is fairly benign. Some flirty talk, and voyeuristic play back and forth online, but nothing serious. He seems to prefer the general conversation the most. He is a man's man, handsome and athletic, intelligent and charming, supportive to me and the kids. I can honestly say that I did marry my best friend. We met when I was twenty and I knew early on in our relationship that he was the one. In all of our married life, I had never looked at another man. Despite what you read here, I have an extremely strong moral code that amuses my husband immensely and provides hours of entertainment for both of us. Which is why this liaison is so hard for me to swallow. 

But I do swallow it. God help me, I swallow it- willingly and hungrily- and beg him for more, every... single... day. 

On the day before the break started, we had a passionate online session and started to say our good-byes.

"When do the holidays' end?" he asked.

"The end of August. Although I don't want to wait two months to chat with you."

"I might choose that you do," he said, "How would you feel about that?"

I couldn't imagine not chatting to him for that long, but I knew I had to accept it. "Whatever you decide. I will miss you, of course."

"The best thing to do is break for a fortnight. You will make yourself available after that. I will miss you." he said.

Did I read what I think I just read? "Michael, you will miss me??"

"Yes, I will." 

Oh dear God....I was in heaven!

"Tell me you will think of me," I cried out desperately.

"I will think of you. Take some time to relax," he said, trying to soothe me. We both said good-bye.

Now, here is where it got confusing again. At least for me it was. I had no idea what was going on in Michael's head, if anything. I did exactly what he told me to do, and was available in two weeks as he directed. We chatted online very briefly and then I had to take care of something at home unexpectedly. 

He never appeared available after that day. No emails, nothing. With my family home most of the time, I had limited availability and so, not knowing what was going on, I put my light on a few times that week. Still nothing.

Did I say something wrong? Does he not feel like working around the tricky schedule? Does he want more time away? I mean, if that's the case, that's fine. Just tell me for God's sake! Spontaneity is one thing, but simply being rude at this point in our liaison was another. I felt my emotions sway back and forth like a pendulum. Confused, angry, sad, confused, angry, sad, over and over. 

Then came a shallow indifference. I wrote my role plays, took naughty pictures of myself and posted them both on my profile. Yes, I still missed him, but I wasn't going to pursue someone who would treat me so terribly.

After a few weeks, I saw him appear online, checking out my profile. I started getting excited, despite myself. And then, a message from him.

"How have you been enjoying your break? I see you've been busy."

"Does this mean that you miss me?" I asked, batting my eyelashes.

"Was that ever in doubt? Answer the question ma petite esclave." My heart leapt!

"I have been enjoying my summer but would enjoy it even more if I could play with you."

"I think it's time to take you to the next level Jennifer. Will you submit?"

Submit? Haven't I already? I was confused.

"I'm not alone," I replied, thinking he wanted me to do something outrageous on cam.

"Is that the question I asked? Your answer....."

"Ohh Michael, Yes I submit!" I didn't know what I was submitting to, but I wasn't going to say no.

"I can smell your wet from here. You will take a break from all other online liasons. You will take a break from all sexual activity unless ordered. The exception is you will fuck your husband twice a week. You will also suck him off once a week until he cums in your mouth or on your face. You will not masturbate without permission. You will not drink alcohol without prior permission from me. If you transgress these rules, you will write to me to apologise, explaining what happened. Success will be rewarded. Failure punished. You have eight hours to think it over." 

Wow....My mouth hung open. 

"Michael, I don't need eight hours...I don't need a second, I'm yours," I gasped.

"Up until now, I have allowed our correspondence to remain relatively light," he continued. "You have enjoyed a great deal of gratification and freedom while developing the correct mental and physical attitudes through training. But freedom breeds distraction and weak will. It's clear from the last time we met via video link that you lack confidence in my presence. This is completely unacceptable. A submissive must put aside such fears and trust in her master. With the prospect of a meeting, you must learn courage. If I deem that you have done well, I may grant you pleasure, but you must not expect it. Your reward is my satisfaction and the knowledge you have achieved that." 

"To that end, you will not reach climax solo or with anyone but me. You will also select a ring and wear it for me. Whenever you look at it, remember."

A ring? Does this mean?

To be continued... 



Bougeotte



"Yes," I whispered. "I would like it, if it pleases you." There is no one around but us, and a few stragglers far away at the end of the bar. You tell me to unzip your pants, which I do eagerly, my mouth is starting to water. Your cock is hard and erect, inviting me to taste it. I slowly bend my head down, and lightly lick your shaved balls, wanting to stay there longer. I sprinkle the salt on. I then take the lemon wedge and sprinkle the sticky juice all over your cock, which is rising to the occasion.

"Wait," you say, looking at me with expectation in your eyes.

"Please..." I beg, just salivating at the thought that I can have you in my mouth. I sweep down and put your entire balls in my hot mouth, tasting every inch...down the shot, and then, glance up at you once more, before I then suck on your entire cock, devouring you, as I go up and down your shaft. You put your hand on the back of my head, pushing me down into you, so I can take you all in. My knees are weak, I almost fall off the barstool. 

You stop me then, my reward will come later. Another test? My thighs are so wet, my juices running down between my legs. You hold up the bag that you brought with you.... ~~

I sent it to him, and received his reply the next day. From there it went, back and forth, the story effortlessly writing itself.

~~ "I've brought something for you to wear this evening." From his bag he slips an 8" black glass butt plug and a slip crotch less leather harness.

The plug is two inches wide at its widest, but smooth and narrow at the top.

You see that once inside you the harness will hold it in place under your skirt without anyone being able to see. I tell you to wet the plug with your juices and work it in while bent over in front of me.

You blush, aware everyone in the bar will be able to see. but you do as I say. I tell you you're not allowed to make any sound, but you gasp as the smooth glass slips in.

"How does it feel?"

**

(((The room is spinning))) ...I hold on to the barstool in front of me...I want to cry out, but know there will be consequences if I do. This is the first time I have ever felt anything like this...searing pain in my ass, but the plug is rubbing against my g-spot and giving me bolts of pleasure, electrifying me. I know you told me that I can't make a sound...and that gasp has already cost me some correction, which I secretly crave....You are standing behind me now, your hands come around the front and lightly stroke my breasts, not touching my nipples....I feel scared..trembling, yet....feel so secure that you have total control of me... I can't take it anymore and start to whimper softly..."Michael." 

**

"Good girl," I whisper in your ear. "Now slip this harness on." You take it from me and step into it, pulling it up. I fasten the buckle at your waist, pulling the straps tight so it forces the toy in a little further. The straps at the front frame you perfectly, exposed and glistening.

I tell you we're leaving and to pull your skirt down and button up your shirt, right to the neck. I lead you by the hand past the guys at the other end of the bar. I wonder what they're thinking.

Outside, I hail a cab and give him the name of the restaurant I want to go to. The perfect gentleman, I let you get in first and sit on the seat, which forces you know what in further. Now you'll feel every vibration of the vehicle through it. I sit down next to you and pull your skirt up so the driver can see in his mirror.

Lazily I start to touch you, with him watching every chance he gets.

"How do you feel?" ~~

At this point, I was literally becoming undone. I was so smitten with him, it was out of control. In attempt to pull back the reins, I sent him a separate email, basically waving the white flag of surrender. 

"Michael, before I respond to our story, I must tell you that this seduction has me in a constant state of heat and desire. I'm frightened... of how you make me feel. I am a married woman, you have a girlfriend. We have never spoken.... I have never even seen you. I love to read, and when I have a good book, I start to feel sad when it is almost finished, knowing it will end. And this is how I'm feeling right now. I keep telling myself to back away, but it's useless."

He replied the next morning. "Don't be frightened. Let your dark side come out to play. You can always stop whenever you want."

I was looking for more from him. His answer was kind, but not as reassuring as I hoped it would be. I wanted him to say he felt the same way as I did. I can always stop? Well, you see, Michael, that's the thing. I don't want to stop, I can't stop. The ball is in my court now. He was not going to let me go, or convince me to stay. The tourniquet was fastened tight, needle in hand...I pushed the drug inside me, and continued to write to him.

~~ Never in my life have I felt so alive...savoring each moment. The cab takes off through the dark and winding streets...

You are sitting next to me, casually stroking my heaving breasts, circling my erect nipples with your fingers, gently tugging on them. Your face is buried into my neck, and long cascading locks of hair. I then feel your soft, sensual lips nuzzle my cheek, sending quivers through my body. 

The butt plug is fluttering in my tight ass, which has completely enveloped it, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through me. You see my hips arch ever so slightly, and then remind me that good things come to those who wait.

I want you- more than I have wanted anyone before. I see the driver watching me suffer in your hands, with a smirk on his face, secretly wishing it was him beside me. 

The cab stops suddenly as we arrive at the restaurant. I cry out harder than necessary, as the butt plug slips in even further, knowing that will warrant a correction. 

"Here we are, pet," you tell me, as you tip the driver. You open the door, take my hand and wrap your muscular arm around my tiny waist, bringing me to my feet. The cabbie takes off, leaving us alone in the dark alleyway, beside the restaurant....~~

His next email states, "You do need some correction. Tell me what I do to you in that dark alleyway..."

~~ We are slowly walking through the dark alley, your arm around my waist...."Tell me something," you say nonchalantly. "Have I been good to you?" 

"Yes," I say. 

"Have I been fair?" 

"Mmm-hmmm...." 

"Explained the rules clearly?" 

"Yess.." I whisper, beginning to feel the hairs stand up on my neck. 

You turn to me, with my back facing the brick exterior of the restaurant. "Well, then...why, do you continue to disobey me?" you demand. I look up at you, your green eyes are illuminated by the moonlight, and I feel your anger.

You then walk forward into me, making me step backward awkwardly in my high heel boots. I bump into the wall, knowing there is no escape. You invade my space and position your face directly in mine, making me tremble.

"I-I don't know why." I respond. 

"I think we both know why you displease me, say it." 

"I don't know," barely audible. 

"Say it!"

"I want you to punish me," I say, my eyes locked into yours. 

"You're going to have to do better than that," you reply.

"Please... please.. Master, punish me! I'm begging you!" You are then satisfied with my pleas and remove two nipple clamps from the bag.

**

I tell you to place your hands against the wall behind you.

You obey silently, your satin clad arms smooth against the rough bricks.

Leaving the top button of your blouse done up I unfasten enough to expose your nipples. Gently I bite each one in turn. 

I thread both clamps onto a slim silver chain and screw them into place, making you winch as your flesh is compressed, hot and red, the cool chain hangs down against your skin.

I clip another chain to it in the middle, between your breasts with another clamp on the end. I tuck this down, between your skirt and your suspender belt so it dangles in front of your pussy.

I kneel down and place the final clamp in place after I've stretched the hood of your clit back. I can see it hurts from the expression on your face. I re-button your blouse, the clamps and chains clearly visible - poking through it and let your skirt fall back down.

"How do you feel?" ~~

Have I mentioned that I still did not know what he looked like? Lusting after a man that I have never seen. Finally, I asked him if he would send me a picture. He replied, "Tell me what's going on with your husband. You say it's complicated but I want to know why you are sneaking behind his back. I think you enjoy doing that. After you tell me the story, I will reveal myself."

I told him that I have been with my husband, happily married for ten years. I had never been on websites with chat like this in my life. I recently discovered that my husband was on the website, and had been chatting with someone for the last few months. I was devastated.

I signed on to the website to find out what attracted him. At first, I was repulsed. Then, after I got on cam, I started to enjoy the attention. And that was why someone like me, a good girl, was here. 

The next day, an email arrived with my reward enclosed. I was really nervous to see him. What we were doing was so enjoyable and I didn't want it to end. Would I still feel the same way about him if I didn't find him attractive? I opened up the email, and there he was. Absolutely gorgeous. Tall, dark and handsome for sure, with beautiful green eyes. And his hair? I could go on all day about those soft brown curls. Further into the rabbit hole, I went.

~~ My lips slightly part, and I start to pant from desire...it was such a tease when you put your mouth on me and bit, then pulled away so quickly. The clamps are biting into my tender nipples...making my pussy gush. I look at you with a lust that is completely raw and primal. Your cock is rock hard, and there is nothing I want to do more than devour you.

I feel nervous..which you can see in my eyes, so vulnerable and exposed. The clamp on my clit has put me over the edge. I try to pretend it doesn't hurt, but my tears betray me. I stand there, trying not to make any noise. My breathing is hot and labored. I look into your eyes, but I can't read you. I wonder what you are thinking.

**

I look back, deep into your eyes. I can see the discipline is working you're starting to behave very well, silent and refined. I'm pleased with you and the fact you're managing to control the pain and your reaction to it.

"Good girl," I whisper in your ear, brushing your skin with my lips. "I think it's time for a reward, don't you?"

I tell you to keep your hands on the wall, but to open your legs. You sink down a little managing to balance on the boots. I kneel down, and in one movement, tear your skirt down. You're hot wet pussy is inches from my face. Your clit is bright red, framed by the metal of the tight clamp at its base.

I extend my tongue and press it to your clit, teasing you, tasting you. I slip the clamp off and suck your clit between my lips, flicking it with my tongue, nibbling gently with my teeth. You remain silent, just, but your breathing becomes heavier as the feeling surges through your body.

With one hand I slip two fingers into your dripping wet pussy and start to massage your g spot with my fingertips.

With the other I reach round and start to twist that smooth butt plug in your ass.

You taste sensational, sweet with an edge. I could eat you for hours, drink in the tastes and the smells. I glance up at you quickly, look deep into your eyes and say: "I give you permission to enjoy this in any way you want. Make as much noise as you like. You've earnt it."

"How do you feel?"

**

Hearing you say that sends chills through me, as I have been waiting so long to fully let go and show you how much pleasure you are giving me. I immediately cry out... lustily.. not caring who hears me. I then start to purr, as you are devouring my pussy, unable to control myself. I can see this excites you, watching me writhe with delight. I start to tug at the nipple clamps, watching you the entire time, catching your glance. My head arches back against the brick, feeling the intense pleasure. Knowing I have permission to enjoy this 'in any way that I want', I wrap my hands around your head, running my fingers through your thick, wavy hair. 

I stay there, enjoying my reward, wishing you would pull me down and finally take what is yours.

When you see that I am on the verge of exploding from orgasm, you stop. You stand, and pull me up close to you. I feel so weak and helpless in your arms. You kiss me, with hot sensual lips, all over my face, careful to not kiss me on the lips, knowing if you do, we won't make it into the restaurant. You put my skirt on and straighten my blouse over the nipple clamps. I'm shaking, and can barely walk. You smooth my hair, and wrap your arm around me. 

We walk in the front door to the restaurant.

**

We enter. The interior is dimly lit, white leather seats, white table cloths, bright silver cutlery, sparkling glasses.

You stand out beautifully in black satin and the shiny black leather of your boots. I want you, but I restrain myself.

The Maître d' smiles as he sees you, scanning your body, his eyes alight on the nipple clamps and chain pressing through your tight blouse. You see him harden through his tight trousers.

I ask for a table in the private dining room upstairs. We follow him up some stairs to the room. 

I follow you and reach up your skirt and dip my fingers in your pussy. The Maître d' glances back and sees me touching you.

Inside the room is a table for two set in a warm white room. One wall is glass and faces out onto the street. It's late and quiet but people are passing by. They can clearly see everything in the room.

The Maître d' shows you to your seat and brings a menu.

I'm sat across from you. I order a bottle of champagne to start and it arrives in a tall, slender ice bucket.

"What will you order?" I ask. ~~

We chatted on cam when we could, which was rare. He was expecting me one day, and I could only log on for a few minutes, just to tell him I had to go. My husband was pulling in the driveway, and was paying close attention to me, as my computer use was through the roof. "Risk it, stay on with me." He was always pushing that envelope. "Are you wet?" he asked. 

"I'm always wet when I am talking to you," I confessed.

"Fuck him, then," he countered. My eyes blazed with fire. He was so confident, never getting jealous of my marriage, but pushing me towards my husband at times. 

He sent me an email later. "If you are enjoying this as much as I am, it's no wonder your husband is watching your every move. I can't stop thinking about you." 

~~ Our eyes are affixed on each other. I sit there, just staring at you, captivated by your dreamy looks, thinking how favored I am to be sitting here with you. I'm famished, all of the foreplay has taken almost every drop of energy from me. Knowing what's in store for me later, I look at the menu. 

Considering you are such a gentleman and will order for me, I ask you if we can start with the Insalata di Rucola Selvatica con Parmigiano e Balsamico Invecchiato. You start to open the champagne, effortlessly popping the cork out of the bottle, and pour it into our glasses. I take a few sips and feel the bubbles going right to my head.

"May I pleasure you while you decide what to order?" I ask. You slide down a little in your seat, giving me permission. 

I take the shiny black boot off my right leg and put my delicate foot on your left calf, gently caressing you, under the silky material of your trousers. My foot slowly moves up the inside of your thigh, and gently massages your aching balls. It then lifts and is directly on top of your cock, not making contact yet. Gently, I lower it onto you, stroking you sensually, feeling your cock jerk, with satisfaction. This only makes me want to climb under the table, and finish you. I wait for your cue.

**

I grab your teasing foot roughly under the table, running the nail of my thumb up the sole, pressing deep through your thin silk stockings.

I see the yearning in your eyes and decide you need another reward. Your choice of food is a good one and while forward, I like your daring foot play.

I tell you to put your boot back on and unzip myself, springing out. 

"We can have the Rocket salad," I say, but not to start.

"Here's your first course. Now get on your knees and eat it, while I consider the menu."

"Use the champagne bottle on yourself."

**

"With pleasure," I reply.

I slowly slide myself under the tablecloth and crawl over to you on all fours. The feast set before me, I can feel the sharp ping of my salivary glands, as if I were biting into a lemon, causing my mouth to water. I first nuzzle your thighs with my lips, gently sucking, and nibbling on you. I carefully inch my face closer to your delicious cock, and inhale deeply, slowly letting my hot breath cover your balls. I lick and bathe them with my tongue, take you all in, and gently pull away, tugging on you. My tongue leisurely works its way up the shaft of your fat cock, coating you with my wet. I steel my tongue and greedily penetrate your passageway. I look up at you, and the desire runs down my inner thighs.

I take the champagne bottle, and seeing there is a little bit left inside, let it trickle out all over your cock. 

"This is going to be sooo good." I'm thinking inside, unaware I said it aloud.

I put the head of your cock in my mouth, gently circling it with my tongue. You reward me with some nourishment, which I lap up and swallow, tasting your sweet seed. Taking you all in, I milk you for more, which you generously supply. As I am going up and down on you, my hand gently caresses your balls at the same time. I feel your hard cock pulse, as the rhythm continues, slowly as first, then building up, until you are almost ready to explode. 

The Maître d' waltzes in with our salads, at first perplexed by my empty seat, until he spies my black shiny boots peeking out from under the tablecloth. Poor bastard. I could care less that he's there, my entire focus is on you.

I then take the champagne bottle and position it in between my legs, so that the spout is resting below my pussy hole. As I continue to devour you, I gyrate over the tip of the bottle, teasing myself with the head of the cold, glass cock. I don't let it fully penetrate me, as I make myself wait for the prize. Your hands and fingers are massaging my head and hair, pulling me in closer. What a catch-22...I want so badly for you to cum in my mouth, but my pussy is aching with desire, wishing that you will come down on top of me, and end this misery. I stop for a moment, and look into your eyes.

**

I pull you up and out from underneath the table, noting the desire in your eyes. You stand in front of me quivering, not knowing what's going to happen, beautiful.

I tear open your blouse popping buttons off, revealing your hot swollen, tightly clamped nipples, chained together. Using the clit clamp on its chain I force you to bend over, attaching it to the base of the table meaning you can't straighten up. running my hands all over you, sometimes touching skin, sometimes caressing you through the ruined blouse I work my way down to your skirt, unfasten it and let it slip to the floor, revealing the harness, suspender belt and tops of your stockings.

I unbuckle the harness and slowly work the plug out. Before you close up I slip my tongue in, tasting you, rimming you.

Then, my cock still wet from your mouth I stand up and place the tip on your wet pussy. Fingering your clit, teasing before I sink it into your tight wet hole.

You feel divine, smooth, soaking, hot. I start to play, withdrawing completely before sliding back in and penetrating your lips again and again. I tell you to touch yourself and delight in feeling the tips of your fingers as you scrabble for your swollen clit.




Bougeotte



Only one decision to make.. where shall I cum?

**

Is this happening right now..? Oh my God... I'm trying to wrap my head around this...

You have no idea how turned on I am. When you pulled me up close to you and looked into my eyes, I just wanted to melt. I love how you take control of me, telling me what to do, positioning me where you want me to be. 

When you clamped me to the floor, my heart ached. You make me feel like no one else has ever before.

I can feel your hard, wet cock, deep in my pussy, filling up every inch of me and more, until I hurt. Your strong hands are all over me. My fingers are petting my clit, up and down, circling, reaching my hand back to your cock and stealing our juices, then returning to my clit for my own pleasure. Your right hand is resting on the small of my back, and your left holds on to my hip, letting you have total control. 

You are the Lion...and I am your prey.

"Ohhhh....oh, God....please, take me....Yesss.....Michael, help me.... please...I can't....I can't take it...."

As much as I want you to cum inside me right now....I want to kiss you, your face, lips, I'm so hungry for your sweet mouth.

"Please, kiss me," I beg. You unclamp me from the floor. Then, you take the end of the pristine white tablecloth, and yank it forcefully to the side, sending glasses, dishes, and silverware crashing to the floor. You scoop me up and lay me down gently, on the table, my ass just at the edge. Our lips find each other, and you ravish my mouth, probing your tongue in every crevice, biting my lips and cheeks. I keep shaking my head side to side, in agony....."Please....fuck me...I want you to fuck me...so hard."

Your hard cock pierces me again, into my hot, wet pussy. You are such a skilled lover...wanting to give me so much pleasure. You aim your cock up with each thrust, hitting my g-spot, sending me into complete bliss. I can feel the orgasm coming on, in my pussy and my clit at the same time, getting closer......closer.........."Oh, just like that, yes,...don't stop....don't stop..."

Our eyes are laser-locked together. I run my hands up and down your chest, then gently tug on the nipple clamps for your viewing pleasure. I love watching you, while you are almost ready to cum, your skin flushed and hot, sweat beads running down your temples, knowing you are about to explode. "My pussy," I cry. "Please, cum in my pussy!"

**

Looking deep into your eyes I explode inside you. The anticipation has been so great I find I cannot stop myself continually thrusting into you as I fill you, gushing hard.

My thrusts are rough causing cum to spill out coating your lips.

If feels like hours have passed. Then eventually I'm spent. 

Taking my time I withdraw, slowly, still hard, and rub your clit with the tip of my sticky cock. Your tight hole is dripping hot, fresh cum.

As you rise it runs down your thighs, leaving sticky trails down your stockings.

Bend over and suck me clean. I say.... ~~

I knew our story was almost at an end, and was silently wondering if that meant our correspondence was too. We were emailing almost every day, sometimes ten times a day. He worked for a law firm and I asked him what his job entailed. "The usual....meetings, writing proposals, seducing secretaries," he mused. 

"I bet you do. I would love to be a fly on the wall and watch you work."

"I don't think I would get any work done, if you were there. That might be a good idea for our next story, though," he said.

I was so excited and relieved to hear that. "We are going to write more?" I asked happily. 

"Of course, this is just an amuse bouche to whet your appetite." Sometimes he would write in French, which would just send me right over the edge.

~~ I do as you say, bending over and sucking off your hot cum. It tastes sweet, with a tang. I lick your cock and balls clean, while you run your fingers through my hair. 

Standing up, I draw close to you, not wanting this moment to end. I finally pull away and put on my clothes- what's left of them, my blouse is literally torn apart. You get dressed, then being the perfect gentleman, take your jacket and drape it around me.

You have given me so much pleasure, from both your corrections and rewards. I only hope I have done the same for you.

"Will we meet again?" I ask, searching your eyes for the answer.

**

As I walk you out of the restaurant and hail a cab, I leave your eyes searching for an answer as I close the door and the taxi departs...

THE END ~

We finished our story in a few weeks. In between writing, he started to give me tasks to complete. Pictures of me in certain outfits, one being in nothing but my husband's dress shirt, open in the front, thigh high stockings with heels. He was pleased. "You look sensational. I knew that look would suit you. Now every time he wears it, I want you to remember what you did for me in it." 

The tasks were sometimes overwhelming as he wanted it done before the end of the day, but he always seemed to know how far to push me. The relationship had such a smooth flow to it that I never felt truly uncomfortable. If there was something I couldn't do, or had to change slightly, he was understanding. But he was always the one in control. He never let me lose sight of that.

We started the next story, he called it, "Employment." I was feeling more and more at ease. 

It's a shame, really, that I never saw what was coming to me. In a few days, I would be completely blindsided. What I was doing was risky, and I would have to accept whatever consequences lie ahead. 

But, the gut wrenching sense of betrayal? Nothing could have prepared me for that. 

To be continued...