IRL
This is an old, old story that I first wrote back in 2007 for another, now defunct, erotic story site. I've had to bash it around a bit to reflect the changes in technology over the last seventeen years and the differences between the two sites but the fundamentals remain.
Is this autobiographical? Not quite but it could have been. Think of it as a 'what if...'
Wendy was bored. Her boss had sent her down to London for a totally inconsequential meeting and now, on the way back, she was stuck, cramped up, on the 17:34 from Euston, sitting opposite a businessman who'd spent the entire journey with his legs pushed out in front of him taking up all the available room.
Ever since he'd sat down he'd had his face buried in a newspaper and he'd seemed impervious to Wendy's attempts to attract his attention. Fortunately, as the train pulled in to Crew station, it looked like her ordeal was over; he stood up and started to pick up his papers from the table between them. The train lurched to a stop and he, and several other passengers got off. At last Wendy felt she could relax. There was still quite a way to go but now it was her turn to stretch out.
She glanced over and saw that the businessman had left his newspaper lying on the seat. She wasn't usually a Financial Times reader but as she'd finished her novel somewhere around Birmingham she reached over and picked it up. No sooner had she done so than a slim paperback fell out from between the pages. This looked far more promising than the FT so she grabbed the book instead.
As she picked it up she couldn't help but chuckle. The book was called 'The Castle Of Slaves' and the cover showed a leather-clad dominatrix holding a coiled whip. You sly old dog. 'She thought to herself. All the world thinks you're reading the FT and you're deep into this stuff instead. She opened it up and started to flick through the pages. It was pretty much what she'd expected. The level of writing was poor and the plot was practically non-existent but the descriptions of Mistress Whiplash (groan!) torturing her slaves in the dungeons of her castle were graphic and detailed.
Despite the stupid story and the appalling number of typos Wendy found herself hooked and, somehow, couldn't put the book down. She could think of a few male chauvinist bastards who could do with a sound whipping, starting with that selfish pig of a businessman with his long legs that took all the room between the seats and finishing with Trevor, her ex, and that bimbette, that trollop, that tart, he'd left her for. In fact she read it all the way to Preston Station where she had parked her car. The train pulled in and, as she gathered up her bags, she took one final glance at the book before throwing it in the bin.
Home at last Wendy dropped her suitcase and slumped down in her favourite armchair. As she had driven home through the lanes her mind had been buzzing; somehow she couldn't shift that stupid book from her mind. She felt that she could sure do with a slave right now, someone to make her a much needed cup of tea, someone to massage her tired feet, someone to tend to her needs without making demands in return. The idea of being tended by some half naked man, with wrist cuffs and a collar and some sort of pouch to cover his prick, was somehow very appealing, and, if he, or even they, weren't up to scratch then she'd make them suffer, and that was appealing too.
With a sigh Wendy got up. There were no slaves to serve her and dreaming wasn't going to make the supper. With a shake of her head she went off into the kitchen.
Two days later Wendy came home from work as usual, fixed herself a light supper, as usual, and flopped down in front of the television, as usual. As she flicked through the viewing guide she realised that it was going to be yet another of those evenings. Nothing she really wanted to watch, nothing to fill her evening. It was all going to be 'as usual'. She picked up her tablet and switched it on. Perhaps if she browsed on line she'd find something to amuse her, something to shake this ennui.
The first few she read were less than inspiring, pretty amateur stuff full of poor writing and clichéd plots. However, the more she read, the more she understood the story tags and the more she came upon writing that was very much to her taste, some of it good enough to put 'Castle of Slaves' in the shade. One or two in particular spoke to something deep inside her and, as she read, she could feel her body tingle. Eventually she glanced up at the clock; it was well past midnight and it really was time for bed. She'd been so engrossed in the stories she hadn't noticed how late it had got. Her mind still spinning she shut down the computer and hurried off to bed.
As she lay between the sheets she couldn't sleep; she realised just how turned on she'd become. The stories had really got to her, really stirred her imagination. Stories of powerful women, women who knew what they wanted and how to get it, fired a desire within her to be like that. The historical ones were closest to her fantasies. If she were Mistress of the Castle of Slaves she wouldn't be anything as clichéd as Madam Whiplash, she'd be Lady Elvira, the Cruel Countess. She'd rule the castle like a goddess, her every whim served by her slaves.
Almost without thinking she reached for her bedside draw and fumbled inside for her vibrator. She imagined herself coming back to the castle dressed in riding gear after exercising her horses. One slave would crouch before her acting as a footstool, another would be polishing her boots and a third would be fetching her a cool drink. Idly she'd play with her crop pondering which slave would suffer at her hands.
She'd know how to keep them in hand, how to keep them trained to her will and any that strayed, any that dare disobey, would suffer not just the lash but be cast from her, never to be allowed to serve again. As she revelled in her fantasies the vibrator worked its magic between her thighs. In her mind she could see the chained body, the tensed buttocks already covered in vivid weals. She could hear the whistle of the lash, the thwack as it struck flesh, the agonised scream of her victim. Her thoughts became disjointed, a slide show of her as dominatrix and of her slaves grovelling at her feet.
Her body arched, her muscles tensed, and, with an intense peak of pleasure that washed through her, she came, every nerve exultant, her whole body singing, lost in wave after wave after wave of pure ecstasy. And then the waves broke, her muscles relaxed and she sank back onto the bed. She could hardly believe what had happened, how strong the feelings had been within her; Never before had it felt so good. She switched off the vibrator and relaxed, coming back down gently, getting her breath back.
She thought over the stories she'd read. They were fine, well, some of them were, but they weren't her story. They weren't the story of Lady Elvira. 'I could write better than that.' she mused to herself as, rolling over, snuggled down to sleep.
For the next few evenings Wendy worked away at her computer, putting together her story. What had looked quite easy at first turned out to be much harder than she had thought. Sure, she was a quick typist and the spell-checker sorted out some of her typos, but turning a masturbation fantasy into a proper story, one with a beginning, a middle and an end, was a real struggle.
But, whatever the difficulties, she'd become obsessed with writing. She'd get lost in the story; it became so real to her that she had to type furiously just to keep up with the plot as it unfolded in her mind. On other occasions, when inspiration failed her, she'd retire to bed, reach for the vibrator, and let her thoughts wander. Day by day the story grew.
When the writing was finished the work was far from over. There was the endless slog of proof reading. The passages she'd written in a fever of sexual excitement were often the most imaginative and the bits she was most proud of but they were the ones which were full of typos, the ones where her fingers had failed to keep up with her libido.
Time after time she'd read through her words and every time she'd find yet more errors, yet more phrases that could be better expressed. Now that it was so near completion she was inpatient to post it but she knew she wouldn't be satisfied unless it was as near perfect as possible. Eventually she reached the point where she knew she could do no better. Well, maybe she could, but she'd reached the point of diminishing returns. At last it was time to post her story.
Now to submit the story. Carefully she read through the instructions. Again it wasn't that difficult and it wasn't long before she was clicking on the 'Submit' button. There, it was done; her story was posted at last.
And then, there it was, her story was on line! Yes! Her story listed amongst the day's new postings. A couple more clicks, the link was open and she was reading through the familiar words, the words she had spent so much work on. Almost immediately she spotted a typo, and another one. Damn! Why hadn't she spotted them before posting? Still, it was too late now, the job was done and the only thing left to do was to see what reviews she got, to see how well her work was accepted. How soon before that changed? However, it was eight-o-clock in the morning and she had to get to work.
That evening she was first out of the office, first down to the car park and first into the rush hour traffic. It seemed to take hours to get home; the traffic in town was bad enough but when she got into the lanes heading for the village where she lived she had the bad luck to get stuck behind a tractor. At last, with a scrunch of gravel, she pulled into the drive of her cottage.
She leapt from the car, rushed inside and powered on her tablet. Then she clicked on the Chrome icon to start up the browser. Feverishly she clicked on the bookmark and opened the library site. Even that seemed to take forever but at last it loaded. The number of views had climbed and she had a very pleasing four and a half star rating but still no reviews. Did anyone out there care? Leaving the tablet running she went to her kitchen and fixed herself some supper.
Repeatedly during the evening she returned to her tablet to check the site. Her readership numbers were slowly rising and her rating was also holding steady. She told herself not to be impatient. After all it would be a while before the US readers came on line; the east coast is five hours behind the UK and the west coast even more.
Her excitement at seeing her work published was, however, mixed with a sense of emptiness. She'd got used to sitting in front of her PC, bashing out the words, seeing the story grow before her eyes and now all she could do was wait, wait to see how it was received. What should she do? Should she write a sequel? She certainly hadn't planned one but maybe she could dream up more adventures for her heroine.
Maybe if Lady Elvira travelled to Berlin, met up with the dashing Captain Kurt and ensnared him with her whiles' Already in her mind she could see him, his smart military uniform, his clipped manners, his Germanic formality. He'd be a hard nut to crack but the feminine charms of Lady Elvira would work their magic and it would be far more fun to train a reluctant slave than a willing one.
She pottered round the house, doing the chores and tidying up, but all the while her mind was racing. What was the next chapter? What would come next? The clock struck eleven; it was getting late. One last check on her rising readership figures before she shut down her tablet and took herself off to bed. She snuggled down beneath the covers and reached again for her vibrator. Hmm' What would Lady Elvira do? How would she ensnare the dashing captain? How would she get him grovelling before her?
It was lunchtime on the next day before she got another chance to check her email. Using work computers for private email addresses was strictly forbidden and there was a 'no phones' ban in her rather sensitive part of the office. This meant she had to slip out to the park where she could finally switch her phone back on and take a look.
Wow! She had four, yes four, e-mails. Three of these were short, pleasant, e-mails congratulating her on her story. She was gratified that people had made the effort; it somehow made all the hard work of writing worthwhile. This wasn't just idle readers but people who thought sufficiently well of her work that they had made the effort to write to her. But it was the last e-mail which really surprised.
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Your story
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Dear Lady Elvira
Thank you so much for your wonderful story.
I would be honoured if you would allow me to become your slave. You would find me obedient and willing to serve you in any way you wished.
Yours obediently
slave mark
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Here was a person, a real person, offering to be her slave. Well, to be honest he was offering to be Lady Elvira's slave, and Wendy was well aware of the difference but it was an intriguing thought and one which gave her an erotic tingle. She'd written brief 'thank you's in reply to her other e-mails; how should she reply to this one? Should she reply at all? What was certain was that she couldn't really concentrate on it while she was sat in the park; she'd have to leave it until she got home.
For the rest of the day she wasn't able to concentrate much on work. The thought that someone, somewhere, had sent her such an e-mail was always at the back of her mind and it was certainly more exciting than sifting through the endless paperwork that seemed to make up the rest of her day.
What was he like, this 'slave mark'; that was part of the thrill, he could be anything from a suave, sophisticated Captain Kurt - huh, in her dreams - to some grossly overweight, chain smoking slob.
That evening, once again, she left the office promptly and switched on her tablet as soon as she got home. First things first, though, she logged on to the BDSM Library to check her reviews. She was gratified to find that she now had three reviews and all of them were favourable.
Then she logged on to gmail and checked her inbox. The only unread email was another piece of fan mail along the same lines as slave mark's. Wendy had never expected a reaction like this; it looked like Lady Elvira could, if she so wished, have a number slaves, well, e-mail slaves at least. It couldn't harm to reply. Wendy thought to herself. Sure, she would have to be careful; she didn't want some sort of internet stalker after her but she could have some fun and see where it led. Whilst she pondered over her next move there was time to go to the kitchen and make some supper.
She rustled up a pork chop with a baked potato and tried to imagine the reply that Lady Elvira would send. She definitely wasn't going to make it too easy. If slave mark thought that all his masturbation fantasies were going to come true just because he'd sent an e-mail he had another think coming. No, the sort of reply that Lady Elvira would send would reflect her haughty superiority, her total disdain for mere men and her expectation of their complete servitude. She plated up her food and returned to the study.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: re: Your story
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You pathetic little worm!
How dare you pester me with your e-mail. Do you not think that I have plenty of slaves already? Why should I go to the time and trouble of training a miserable specimen like you?
Lady Elvira
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She clicked on send and her reply was on its way. Then she turned her attention to the other e-mail.
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From: sub****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Slave Application
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Goddess Lady Elvira
I humbly beseech you to accept this worthless slave into your castle. It would be my greatest pleasure to serve you in any way you desired.
If you were to but say the word I would rush to prostrate my self at your feet.
I am forever yours.
bob
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There wasn't much to choose between 'slave mark' and 'bob' and Wendy felt like playing along with both of them but, as she stared at the screen, she had second thoughts. She'd see how slave mark worked out. She could always come back to bob, or, it would seem, pick up plenty of others just by posting another story.
She opened a new word document. Given the reaction Lady Elvira definitely deserved a sequel. She imagined the streets of 19th century Berlin, Lady Elvira's carriage clattering across the cobbled streets and pulling up at the best hotel. Now, how would she and Captain Kurt meet? How would she entice him back to her castle? For a while she typed away, setting the scene, and occasionally googling Berlin to check on details. Which hotel would she stay at? What regiment would Captain Kurt belong to?
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: re: Your story
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Dear Lady Elvira
I humbly beg your forgiveness for my impertinence. I grovel naked at your feet, cravenly begging for the chance to serve. I will do anything, anything at all to show the depth of my servitude.
Please, please Mistress, have pity on your slave. I await your command.
slave mark
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Well, well, well, Wendy thought to herself, so he'll do anything at all to show his servitude. Wendy felt a thrill of excitement. Somewhere, out there, slave mark must be on line.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: re: Your story
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worm, for worm you are, and worm you will remain. You squirm in the dirt at my feet where you belong. I would not sully my boots by using you as my doormat.
It appears that there might be a position vacant as a stable slave to muck out the horses and polish the tack. But you have much to learn before you will be accepted for even this lowly position.
The first lesson is that you will NEVER refer to yourself as 'I', you are a worm and you will refer to yourself as such.
Furthermore, my command is that playing with yourself will NOT be tolerated under any circumstances without my express permission. Do not think that you can do so behind my back, I will know and you will be punished for it.
By tomorrow you will send me an HONEST description of yourself and a picture of your penis.
Your Goddess
Lady Elvira
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Wendy clicked on 'send' and the e-mail was on its way. She minimised the browser and, inspired by her reply to slave mark returned to chapter two of Lady Elvira's story.
That night, as she lay in bed, her mind flip-flopped between images of the bold Captain Kurt and thoughts of slave mark. She wondered if her prohibition of playing with himself would have any effect. Obviously Wendy would never know but Lady Elvira would certainly impose such a rule and enforce it rigorously. Maybe she'd get her slaves to wear some sort of chastity device, it would make teasing them so much sweeter. She picked up her tablet and googled to see if such devices actually existed. Of course they did!
She imagined slave mark wearing such a device. They would still be able to take a piss but even getting an erection would be uncomfortable. Then, with slave mark chained spread-eagled against the wall of her dungeons she'd tease him mercilessly. What was the old saying; if you have them by the balls' She reached once more for the vibrator; she seemed to be turned on so much nowadays she'd be buying new batteries at the weekend!
The next day Wendy was caught up in meetings all day. Even lunchtime turned into an ad-hoc meeting as she was dragged along to the canteen to discuss matters pertaining to the afternoons meetings. What a way to earn a living! As such she hadn't had the opportunity to nip out to the park and check her email on her phone. Still, the anticipation was half the thrill; she wondered what the response would be, had she been too harsh, too demanding?
After work she was invited out to the pub for a quick drink and, given the importance of being part of the 'team' it would have been foolish to say no. Anyway she enjoyed the odd bit of time out with the rest of the girls from the office; the chat was always so much looser in the pub.
She had hardly been in the pub five minutes before she nipped to the loo. She didn't really need to go but she did need to check her email! She sat in the stall and waited as her phone powered up. Yes, there was an email. Anxiously she opened it.
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Description
Attachment: photo1.jpg
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Dear Lady Elvira
worm begs forgiveness for his ignorance. worm will never again forget what he is and how he should refer to himself.
Goddess Lady Elvira requested a full description
worm is 35, 5'10" tall, dark hair and clean shaven.
worm weighs 11 stone and keeps himself fit.
worm's penis is 5.8 inches long when erect and is uncircumcised.
worm is a single, well educated professional who lives alone.
worm is a non-smoker.
worm lives in Leeds in the UK.
worm's likes are foot worship, bondage and golden showers.
worm's dislikes/limits are scat and homosexual contact
worm has attached a photo. worm hopes this is acceptable.
Your ever obedient worm.
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Wendy clicked on the attachment and opened the photo. It showed a limp penis. Wendy was no great expert, she hadn't had that may sexual partners, but it looked ordinary enough, but limp, how dare he!
She knew how she had to reply but she also knew that she didn't want to continue this email converstaion from a stall in the Queens Arms ladies loo.
She returned to the body of the pub and rejoined her friends. Now it was a delicate balance between staying long enough to be polite and rushing home to email slave mark. She gave it half an hour before slipping away.
As soon as she arrived home she fired up her tablet and opened the email app.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: re: Description
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How pathetic!
A simple request and you get it so wrong. Never, ever, send me a picture of yourself unless your penis is FULLY ERECT! You have thirty minutes to rectify this. Furthermore, in payment for your stupidity, you will find four clothes pegs and attach them to your scrotum. If you cannot do this do not bother replying.
Furthermore, how can you possibly think that I would have the slightest interest in the likes and dislikes of one such as you? I will treat you how I want; your wishes are completely irrelevant.
Your Goddess
Lady Elvira
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Wendy chuckled as she clicked on the 'send' icon. She could imagine the panic at the other end when he got her e-mail. She hoped she hadn't overdone it. What if he hadn't got any clothes pegs? What if he wasn't in a position to read his emails? Was the time limit too tight? Still, the only thing left was to wait and see. She went to her PC and opened up Lady Elvira Chapter 2 to keep herself occupied.
She might as well not have bothered. She was so distracted by the thought of slave mark that she only typed a dozen or so words. She simply couldn't get into the swing of things and, every minute or so, she was switching back to email to see if she had a reply. The clock seemed to tick so slowly and nearly twenty-five minutes had gone when'
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Description
Attachment: photo2.jpg
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Dear Lady Elvira
Your worm grovels before you in apologies. Please accept the new photo.
Please let worm know when he may remove the clothes pegs.
Your obedient worm
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Wendy opened the new photo. It showed, as worm had promised, his penis stiff and proud and with four clothes pegs clipped to his scrotum. She imagined him, waiting at home, getting on with his life, maybe watching TV, all the while with the pegs biting into his balls.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: re: Description
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Good little worm, that's better.
You will wear the clothes pegs for a while yet. It is important that you learn your lesson. However, as a reward, you make stroke your penis while you wait. You are NOT allowed relief.
Your Goddess
Lady Elvira
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Wendy went back to the description he'd sent. Given that he'd described his penis as 5.8 inches long it would seem to be pretty accurate. Wendy had never before met a man, however pathetically hung, who would admit to having less than 9 inches and she knew that around 6 was the norm. Anyway, he was far from being the smallest man she'd met and at least it was nice and plump, not like Trevor's skinny little thing. Furthermore the photo, by its very nature, showed worm's lower stomach and she could see that he didn't have a beer belly; in fact he looked quite trim. Maybe his weight was accurate as well. She still didn't believe she had the dashing Captain Kurt at the other end, but he wasn't the fat slob she'd also imagined.
She stared at the photo. Oh, how she wished she were there. The idea of torturing a man by putting clothes pegs on his balls was a real turn on. She'd stroke it gently, teasingly, erotically, contrasting the pain of the clothes pegs with the pleasure of her fingers. Of course, she wouldn't let him come. As soon as a man came his interest was over; anyway sexual teasing, keeping a slave on edge of orgasm for hours, possibly days, would be a far more subtle torture than mere clothes pegs. As it was she had to make do with knowing that, somewhere out there, there was someone who was sitting patiently at his PC, his balls in pain, waiting on her word for release. How should she reward him? What was her next step? Wendy thought for a while and started writing.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: re: Description
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Lady Elvira has decided that worm shows sufficient potential that she will take him on as a stable slave. worm's job is to ensure that the stables and tack are spotless at all times.
On the first day Lady Elvira returns from exercising her stallion. She hands the reins to worm who takes the horse to his stall. Meanwhile Lady Elvira checks the state of the stables. At first all seems to be OK but when she turns back...
'worm! I thought I told you to keep this place spotless.'
'Yes, Goddess.' worm replies.
'So what's that?' Lady Elvira points with her riding crop. The stallion has emptied its bladder and a river of urine flows from his stall to a drain. 'On your belly, worm.'
worm looks at the floor and then up at Lady Elvira; there is no doubting her intentions for him. He lies down in the gutter where the flow is deepest. Lady Elvira places her foot on his buttocks and shoves hard.
'That's where you belong, in the gutter with the rest of the filth, isn't it?' She sneers.
'Yes, Goddess.' worm replies.
'Well, don't forget it.'
worm may remove the clothes pegs but is expressly forbidden from playing with himself until further notice.
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Wendy looked once again at the photo and her hand slipped between her thighs. There was no denying it, what had started out as intriguing and amusing was now a massive erotic thrill. The thought of slave mark so obedient, so compliant to her will, was a real turn on. She started to think of ways she could humiliate him, ways to reinforce the Mistress/slave relationship, ways that would work using e-mail. Meanwhile she could return to writing chapter 2. Maybe Captain Kurt could be made to lie in a puddle of horse piss? Wendy opened the document and let her imagination run wild.
Before she went to bed she checked her e-mail. There was, of course, one from slave mark. She'd open it tomorrow; it wouldn't do to seem to be too keen, even if that was the case.' Once in bed she snuggled down beneath the covers, her thoughts a confused jumble of Captain Kurt and slave mark.
Friday was one of those days which started badly and got worse. Wendy struggled through the morning, one boring meeting after another. At lunch time she nipped out to the park where she fired up her phone to see if she had any new emails. slave mark's unread e-mail sat there, almost taunting her. Part of her, most of her wanted to leave it until the evening when she'd have time to reply properly, but her inquisitive nature overcame her patience and she just had to open it. However, it was not as she had hoped.
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Friday Night
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worm deeply regrets that he will not be available for training on Friday evening. He prostrates himself before his Goddess, hoping she will understand, fully expecting to be punished for his behaviour.
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Damn, damn, damn! The rational part of her realised that, whomever Mark might be, she couldn't expect him to be at her beck and call just because of a few e-mails. However, the rest of her was deeply disappointed; she'd really been looking forward to the next session. On the other hand Fiona had been pestering her for a girls night out around the clubs and, after the day she was having, getting pissed seemed like a good idea. However, worm wasn't going to get off that lightly.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: Re: Friday Night
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Lady Elvira is VERY disappointed in worm She understands his unavailability but he WILL be punished.
Tomorrow worm is to go shopping. He will buy
A short length of chain and a padlock suitable for attaching around the base of worm's pathetic genitals.
A pair of pink panties, nice and girly but with sufficient hold to keep worm's penis under control.
A collar with a name tag.
By six pm worm will e-mail Lady Elvira with photographs, one of him wearing the chain, and the other with him wearing the panties. The collar is NOT to be worn until Lady Elvira says so.
Failure to do so will terminate your servitude.
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There, that will sort him out. Wendy thought to herself and, with a pique of frustrated anger, clicked on the send button.
On Saturday morning Wendy awoke, still half dressed, and with a vicious hangover. Damn, the car was still at the office, she'd been far too drunk to consider driving home last night and now she'd have to take the bus into town to collect it. Still, she could do her weekly shop whilst she was at it and, when all was said and done, she'd had a great night with the girls. She looked up at the clock. Heavens! It was well past ten, she'd have to get a move on. She stumbled out of bed in search of coffee and a shower.
Preston, as ever on a Saturday, was heaving. She pushed her way around the market buying fresh veg for the week and, as she did so, she thought about Mark, doing his shopping in Leeds. Where would he go? Somewhere like B&Q for the chain, Petworld for the collar and, and this made her smile, somewhere else for the panties. Dammit, if worm was buying nice undies then so could she, or rather Lady Elvira could; something to get her in the mood. She dropped off the heavy shopping at her car and made her way down Fishergate to Debenhams.
As she sorted through the racks she found plenty that would be suitable for worm. Pink and frilly, just the thing, it was a pity that there was no way to get them to him. Still, pink was certainly not Lady Elvira's colour. A black basque, that was more like it, with a matching pair of high leg panties and some stockings. She was sure she had some suitable shoes back home and, if she dug deep enough at the back of her wardrobe, there was a riding crop she'd had as a teenager when she used to ride a lot. Satisfied with her purchases she made her way back to the office to pick up the car.
By the time she got home it was late afternoon. She put the groceries away and laid her new underwear out on the bed. It wouldn't hurt to try them on, would it? She quickly slipped of her clothes and started to get into the basque. It was quite heavily boned and, as she tightened it up, she found she was standing straighter, more regal, more imposing.
She slipped on the panties and the stockings and searched in her wardrobe for the riding crop and some suitable shoes. Dressed at last she stood before the mirror. Although she was not given to vanity, she really felt she looked good. She swished the crop through the air. If only, if only there were a nice firm pair of buttocks to strike.
The thought occurred to her; she was getting photos from worm, maybe Lady Elvira should send one in return. They could never get together but at least he could see whom it was he was worshipping. She opened the camera app on her phone and sorted out the timer mechanism. After a few false starts she had quite a few suitable poses, especially when she realised it was best if the camera was low down, looking up. A worm's eye view, you might say.
A few minutes with a downloaded photo editor and she'd obscured her face and any other things that might identfy her. When she had finished there were several photos which were ready for sending. Now, time to fire up gmail and see if worm had kept his half of the bargain.
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Shopping
Attachment: photo3.jpg photo4.jpg photo5.jpg photo6.jpg
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Goddess Lady Elvira
worm, your faithful and obedient slave, has been shopping as ordered. worm kneels before his Goddess hoping that the attached photographs are to her satisfaction.
Your obedient slave
worm
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Wendy clicked on the first photo. I showed a cushion upon which there was a heavy black dog collar with an attached nametag. By zooming in she could make out that the tag had 'worm' engraved on it. Hmm' so far, so good; now for the next one. This showed worms erect penis with the chain she had demanded firmly padlocked around the base. He had obviously fixed it quite tightly and there was plenty of spare on the loose end. Two out of two so far. Photo three showed him from mid-thigh to belly wearing the panties. They weren't quite what she'd envisioned; she'd thought of something more girly whereas these were lacy and feminine. However, they were a pretty shade of pink and the straining material held his prick very snugly, even if it did poke out of the top quite a bit.
The final photo showed worm from the back, spread-eagled against a wall and wearing the panties. Although Wendy had got to see bits of his anatomy, well, his crutch mainly, this was the first time she'd seen the complete man. He'd said he was thirty-five, and Wendy was now well prepared to believe him. His body was trim and taut and his hair full and well kept. Wendy wished she could see his face but she well understood why not. After all, the photo she had prepared for him was similarly obscured
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: Re: Shopping
Attachment: photo1.jpg
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Lady Elvira is pleased with worm's shopping, it seems that he can get some things right after all. However, that does not excuse his absence on Friday.
Lady Elvira has sent for worm and he is being led into the house, naked except for the chain around his genitals and the cuffs which bind his wrists. He is taken to a small room, a cell; his wrists are unfastened but only to be reattached to a chain which stretches up to the ceiling. The chain is adjusted and he stands, almost on tiptoe, hanging from the cuffs. A blindfold is fixed over his eyes and it all goes dark. He hears the door open and close again. He is alone, naked, hanging by his wrists, waiting his punishment.
The time drags by.
Eventually worm hears the door open again. He senses two people enter. One, it must be Lady Elvira as he can smell her familiar perfume, goes round behind him, the other... he hears a rustle of cloth in front of him and suddenly nimble fingers are playing with his penis, not just fingers but lips and tongue as well. He assumes, he hopes, he prays that this is Suzi, Lady Elvira's maid. It doesn't take much before worm's penis is rock hard; it has been days since he was allowed relief and he has been sexually excited so many times during that period. He senses that this is some sort of test; he knows he has been forbidden relief and, just because his penis is in the mouth of a sweet young maid does not remove that prohibition. He doesn't know what Lady Elvira will do if he loses his self control, but he does know it will be painfully unpleasant. He can feel the sap rising within him; can he keep it under control?
Then Lady Elvira strikes. It isn't the crop this time; worm knows that river of fire all too well. From the spread of the strike, from the way it reaches around and between his buttocks, worm guesses that she is using a cat-of-nine-tails. It's not just his buttocks that take the punishment, every inch of his back, from his shoulders to his knees, is being whipped and it makes it worse, much worse, not knowing where the next blow will fall.
At first the pain isn't too bad; it's a harder struggle keeping himself under control as Suzi works her magic on his penis but, gradually, steadily, Lady Elvira strikes harder and, as blow lands upon blow, the intensity increases. He bites his lip, trying to stifle his cries but it's to no avail; at first a yelp of pain and then a full-blown cry escapes. He knows that lady Elvira expects, nay demands, that her slaves take their punishment 'manfully' but he's losing control, he can't keep it in much longer.
And then he breaks. The pain that covers his back, his buttocks, his thighs is too much to fight; Suzi's ministrations to his penis serves only to counterpoint the pain. He is lost in a world of conflicting emotions and all control is gone. His cries have become an incoherent babble of pleading and sobbing.
At last it is over, he hangs, suspended by his wrists. The only thing that is not limp is his penis. Thank God he passed that test!
'Pathetic' Lady Elvira sneers as she heads for the door.
'Suzi' she continues 'finish him off and return to my room.'
Suzi's tongue works away at worms penis'
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Wendy clicked on the send button and the e-mail, with its attached photo is on its way. Hmm... She'd had to add Suzi, Lady Elvira's maid, as an afterthought but now she had done so the extra possibilities were interesting. There were so many ways in which she could be used to help torment the slaves. She wondered what worm would make of the e-mail. It had certainly turned her on. How long would she have to wait until she got a reply? She was too distracted to write, too fixated on worm to think about Captain Kurt, so she played solitaire in between checking gmail looking for a reply. She had played five games, and won none of them, when the new mail arrived.
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Out of Role
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Dear Elvira,
Please forgive this e-mail but I wanted to talk to you Mark to Elvira, not worm to Lady Elvira.
Thank you so much for your e-mails. They keep worm constantly excited and aroused. He will reply fully when Suzi has finished!
More importantly, thank you so much for the photo. The more we got involved the more I wondered what you looked like. To find that the real Elvira is a beautiful young woman is beyond my wildest expectations. To find that the reality matched, nay exceeded, the fantasy thrills me to the core.
I hope you find our e-mails as exciting and as erotic as I do. Each evening I can't wait to get home to to read your emais in the privacy they so deserve. My wish, my dream, is that some day we might meet for real so I might serve you properly.
Yours
Mark
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Wow! Suddenly the whole thing had taken on a whole new dimension. It wasn't just Lady Elvira and worm, it was Wendy and Mark as well. She knew that worm was a real person, that was much of the thrill, but now he had an extra dimension, a real real person if you will. The last sentence spun in her mind. My dream is that some day we might meet for real.' Could that happen? Would that happen?
There were so many practical difficulties. There was no way she was letting him know her real name and address, not until she knew him much, much better. If he had any sense at all then the same went the other way. That meant that meeting at either of their houses was out of the question which only left finding a hotel somewhere. Wendy had spent a lot of time staying in hotels whilst on business trips and knew only too well how sound travelled between the rooms. Even if he were gagged the noise of the riding crop would give them away. Anyway, meeting in a hotel seemed cheap somehow.
But why was she even considering this, surely she knew the difference between fantasy and reality. Just because he seemed quite nice, and had sexy body, didn't mean that she wanted to... or did she? Part of her, the sensible part, told herself not to be foolish, not to chase this, to keep it safe and impersonal but another part, a part that spoke from deep inside her said that if she never took any risks she'd never have any adventures. Maybe this Mark was the man for her, maybe together they could explore their sexuality, find thrills far beyond the norm, maybe....
It's just not practical. She told herself firmly and turned back to her phone. The picture of worm spread-eagled against the wall was still showing on the screen. If she was there with him, if she had her riding crop' Enough, it's just NOT practical.
That night, as Wendy lay in bed, busy once again with her vibrator, her dreams were not of Lady Elvira and worm, well, not the fictional ones, but of her and slave mark. If they were to meet it wouldn't be her fingers against her clitoris, it would be his tongue; it wouldn't be her vibrator deep inside her, it would be his well-constrained prick. She'd chain him, she'd whip him, she'd tease him and, when she was ready, she'd use him. And if he dare ever, ever, ever, come before she did, well, he just wouldn't! With thoughts of herself knelt over his shackled body, riding him, ramming his prick deep, deep inside herself until she was totally, completely and absolutely sated, she climaxed, her cries echoing around the empty cottage.
'It's just not practical. She told herself once more and rolled over to go to sleep.
For the next few weeks Lady Elvira's relationship with worm blossomed. Nearly every night they exchanged e-mails, the subject matter getting bolder, more detailed, more intense. worm progressed from being a stable slave to working around the house; he was often ordered to service Suzi and, when he performed well he was rewarded, when he didn't, or when Lady Elvira was just in one of those moods, he was punished. Work on Chapter Two for the library ground to a halt as her e-mails with worm were far more exciting. All the time Wendy had, at the back of her mind, the thought that, maybe one day, they could meet, they could do it for real.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: Training
Attachment: photo23.jpg
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Lady Elvira is ready for worm's next training session. She sends word down to the stables where he is hard at work polishing the tack.
worm immediately reports to the servant's entrance where he is met by Suzi.
'You smell disgusting!' She sneers and, grabbing the chain that is now a permanent fixture around his genitals, drags him to the slave's bathroom. Under her watchful eye worm performs his ablutions. He is to be scrupulously clean before being presented to Lady Elvira but heaven help him if he spends too long soaping his penis!
Clean and dry at last he is led to the drawing room where Lady Elvira is relaxing. As worm falls to his knees to prostrate himself he notices that there is another woman in the room who is watching him closely.
'Is this the new slave?' she asks.
'Yes, he's only started basic training but he shows some promise. I haven't even begun the more intimate stuff yet.' Lady Elvira replies.
'So you don't know whether he's any good with his tongue?'
'No, in that sense he's still a virgin.' Lady Elvira chuckles.
'How sweet. Do you think I might have a go. I always like to try the beginners. While they lack finesse I get a buzz out of breaking them in.'
'Of course, my dear. Do you want to take him to your room?'
'No, right here will do.' The woman replies. 'After all, it will give you a chance to judge his performance as well.'
'I think he should be blindfolded, don't you agree?'
'Yes, indeed. Suzi, sort him out, will you.'
Suzi fetches a blindfold and, before he is allowed to raise his head, fits it on worm. Still on his knees he is led across the room. He hears the rustle of cloth, his head is lifted by the hair and pushed forward. His lips brush against the strange woman's most intimate parts. Tentatively he probes with his tongue. Will he be good enough to satisfy? How will he be punished if he fails?
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One Monday Wendy had just arrived at work when Louise came over. She was gushing about a weekend she and her latest boyfriend had spent in the Lake District.
'We rented a cottage.' Louise explained. 'They're awfully cheap at this time of year and shagging on the rug in front of the open fire was just fantastic. I mean it's just like staying at a hotel except so much more private. No neighbours to complain when you scream the walls down.'
As soon as she got home Wendy opened up her tablet and searched on line for cottages in the Lake District. It was just as Louise had said. Out of season she could rent one for the weekend very cheaply and, judging by some of the photos, she could be as private as she wanted. No neighbours to complain when you scream the walls down. Louise had said. Hmm' that could be interesting.
The next weekend she drove up to the Lakes to look around. The village of Elterwater seemed perfect. They could meet at the Britania Inn and, if they liked the look of each other, there were plenty of places to rent within easy walking distance. As she drove back down the M6 she worked out how she would plan it.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: Assignment
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Lady Elvira demands that worm will be in the Britania Inn in Elterwater in the Lake District at 8pm on Friday. worm should sit at the bar and carry a copy of the Financial Times. worm should be prepared to stay the entire weekend.
Do NOT forget to bring the collar.
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Re: Assignment
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Goddess Lady Elvira
worm can hardly believe his eyes. Is he really going to meet his Goddess at last! I can hardly wait for the honour, for the privilege, for the ecstasy of serving you.
Will worm be allowed to wear his collar at last?
Your faithful slave
worm
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There, it was done. Wendy immediately went on to the web site she had found at work and booked the cottage.
worm wasn't the only one who couldn't wait for Friday night. As soon as she was back at work on Monday morning Wendy asked her boss if she could have Friday afternoon off using a fictional hospital appointment as an excuse. Of an evening she was sorting out what she would take. Her new basque and panties were a certainty, as was her riding crop, but she'd need more than that. A quick trip to the shops on Wednesday lunchtime sorted out some chain and padlocks and some suitable rope. She wondered about buying some more lingerie, one outfit would not last the weekend, but her credit card was beginning to feel the strain. Perhaps she'd get worm to buy her one once they were there; after all, she'd paid for the cottage.
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From: Lady****@****.com
To: slave****@****.com
Subject: Tomorrow
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Lady Elvira hopes that worm will not let her down tomorrow. She is so looking forward to having her slave squirming at her feet.
If he is good enough, if he reaches Lady Elvira's demanding standards, he might be finally allowed to wear the collar he desires so much.
Remember - 8pm, the Britania Inn, Elterwater.
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Wendy knew that the e-mail was not really in character for Lady Elvira, it didn't have the haughty detachment, but she couldn't keep her excitement out of it. Was she really going ahead with this? Would worm pull out at the last moment? Would she?
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From: slave****@****.com
To: Lady****@****.com
Subject: Re: Tomorrow
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Goddess Lady Elvira
worm is so excited he can hardly control himself. He lives to prostrate himself at Goddesses' feet. Lady Elvira can be assured that he will be there.
Your faithful slave
worm
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That was it then, all set for tomorrow.
The next day Wendy had to hold herself back. Her first thought was to take her overnight bag with her so that she could go straight off from work but as she couldn't get the key to the cottage before four-o-clock that would have been ludicrous. As it was she was home by twelve thirty and mooching around the house unable to leave before two thirty or so. At two-o-clock she could stand it no longer, she just had to get out of the house.
She got in her car and headed for Elterwater. She was ahead of the bulk of the weekend traffic into the Lake District and it was out of season so the roads were clear and it only took an hour and a half. When she arrived Wendy took some time out to wander round the village but, even so, she was first at the office that ran the cottages when she went to pick up the key.
Thirty minutes later she'd been shown round the cottage and was unpacking. It was everything she'd hoped for; cosy but not cramped, nice and warm with the central heating backed up by a big open fire and a huge pile of logs ready at the side, and a nice and modern kitchen and bathroom. The front room, as well as being the biggest, had exposed beams with lots of suitable places to attach ropes and chains. She went through to the master bedroom and checked out the beautifully soft double bed. Wendy stripped off, hung up her clothes and ran herself a long hot bath.
She took her time in the bath, after all there were several hours before they were due to meet. She used her best bath oils and luxuriated in the piping hot water, relaxing, washing the week away, getting into the mood to be thoroughly pampered. As the water cooled she knew she couldn't lie there all day, apart from anything else her fingers were getting wrinkled, but before she got out she trimmed her pubic hair so that it was neat and tidy. With any luck worm's face would be buried there in the near future and it wouldn't do to have an unruly bush.
She got out of the bath and dried herself. She still had plenty of time so she took extra care with her make up as well as trimming her fingernails and toenails and applying a fresh coat of bright red varnish to both. This is a job for worm. She thought to herself as she painted her toenails but she wasn't going to meet him for the first time without the full war paint. Maybe he could redo them tomorrow, assuming they got that far. She wondered if she ought to sort out something to eat, there wasn't going to be much opportunity later, but she was too nervous to be hungry. Anyway, she'd had lunch before she'd left.
She dressed herself in the basque, panties and stockings. Standing before a full length mirror she checked that all was OK; her nerves made her overly critical and she despaired at what she saw as her flabby thighs. Still, worm had seen it all in plenty of photos and had always waxed lyrical. Here's hoping that he wouldn't be disappointed when he saw the real thing. Satisfied that she could do no better she put on what she thought of as her 'disguise'. She wasn't going to meet Mark as Lady Elvira, she wanted to be the one who made the decision as to whether they went ahead or not, so she dressed in a bulky sweater and some old jeans. Once she put on the bobble hat and sensible shoes she'd also brought she looked anonymous, just another visitor to the Lake District, the sort who would be striding up Helvelyn before breakfast. No one would know of her lingerie beneath.
By seven thirty she was sitting at the bar of the Britania nursing a white wine spritzer. Now all there was to do was wait.
It was quarter to eight when he arrived; she just knew he'd be early. She'd positioned herself so that she could see the door in the large mirror that hung behind the bar. Now that she could finally see his face she was relieved. He was quite good looking in a 'boy next door' kind of way, no Adonis but certainly not ugly. He was dressed in smart casual clothes and waving his copy of the FT around like a flag. She took care not to respond but kept her head down, following him in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. He came up to the bar and sat down a few seats away, putting the FT on the counter in front of him. Wendy sipped her drink and glanced sideways. Mark caught her glance and pointed at the FT hopefully. Wendy gave him a quizzical look.
'Sorry.' Mark mumbled. 'I thought you might be someone I'm supposed to meet.'
'What is this, some sort of assignation?' Wendy laughed. 'Is that the secret symbol? Shouldn't it be a white carnation? You must be the only visitor to the Lakes who brings the FT, most of us just have the walking guides.'
'Something like that.' Mark replied sheepishly.
'I'm intrigued. Tell me more.' Wendy noticed Mark's discomfort. 'Don't worry, I'll make myself scarce when she arrives. It is a 'she', isn't it?'
'Err... Yes.' Mark still looked uncertain but he was starting to melt under Wendy's smile and he didn't complain when she moved over and sat next to him.
As they chatted Wendy could sense that Mark was relaxing. He still turned and looked whenever the door opened but his conversation was flowing freely. In fact they were getting on like a house on fire.
At quarter past Wendy glanced at the clock.
'She's late.' She said.
'Yes, but she's worth waiting for.' Mark replied.
'She must be pretty special if you're prepared to wait and you don't even know what she looks like.'
'Oh, she's special, alright. Very special.'
'Wow! You're really hooked on her, aren't you? Tell me about her.'
'Sorry, that's private.'
Wendy was secretly delighted. One the one hand he was open and friendly but he was also discrete where it mattered. She was really getting to like Mark and was nearly ready to let on who she was but it was fun to string him along and she was still a bit nervous about getting involved with a stranger. She finished her drink and Mark offered to buy her another. That made it her second white wine spritzer and she knew it would have to be her last; she wanted to keep a clear head.
By eight thirty she could tell that Mark was getting anxious. He kept glancing towards the door and, although they had been getting on really well, he was getting distracted. Wendy took pity at last.
'What will you do if she doesn't come?' She asked.
'Oh, she'll come, I know she'll come.' Mark said earnestly.
'You seem pretty sure.' Wendy replied.
'It's just... Look, I don't know how to explain this but I just know she'll come. She's a bit of a tease and might keep me waiting a while but I'm sure she'll come.'
'Or maybe she's already here, worm.' Wendy said quietly.
'It is you!' Mark exclaimed loud enough to make the barman turn round. 'I knew it was, or rather I hoped it was!'
'Calm down.' Wendy ordered. 'Are you ready for this?'
'Yes, my Lady.' Mark's voice was quiet again but it was obvious he was very excited. 'Of course, my Lady.'
'This is how it's going to work. This is the key to Fell View cottage.' Wendy took the key out of her pocket and slid it along the bar. 'It's left out of the pub, first left, and then fourth cottage on the right. The name's on the gatepost. You have ten minutes to go and get ready. You are not to go in the bedroom, you're to stay in the front room. Whilst we're in the cottage we're Lady Elvira and worm, outside we're Mark and Elvira. Oh, and your safe word is 'radish'. Have you got all that?'
'Yes, m... er... Yes, Elvira.' Mark finished his pint and picked up the key. 'I'll be off then. Fell View, first left, fourth cottage on the right. See you in ten minutes.'
'That's right. See you in ten.'
Wendy's heart raced. This was it, in ten minutes what had started as a fantasy would become real. Mark seemed really nice; sure, she'd keep her pepper spray close for a while yet, but she had a really good feeling about him. The hands on the clock seemed to be stuck, even if she went slowly it would take her a only a minute or so to walk the two hundred yards back to the cottage and she didn't want to spoil anything by arriving too early. She downed her spritzer and, on a sudden whim, ordered a lemonade. She remembered that worm had expressed a liking for golden showers and lemonade would be just the thing to prime the pump, so to speak.
Time to go at last. Wendy walked down the street, quiet in the twilight. When she got to the cottage she slipped round the rear and let herself in through the back door. This let her get to the bedroom without going near the front room and being seen by worm. She slipped off the shoes, hat, jeans and sweater and put them away neatly. A few moments in front of the mirror with her brush repaired the damage the bobble hat had done to her hair.
She slipped on her high heels, picked up the riding crop and checked herself out in the mirror. Her anxiety from the pub was gone; she was no longer nervous Wendy, her place had been taken by super confident Lady Elvira.
Standing tall, she opened the door, went down the hall and into the front room. worm was waiting on his knees wearing nothing but the pink panties and the chain round his genitals. His head was bowed and, in his cupped hands, he held the collar out before him.
'Right worm,' Lady Elvira's voice dripped contempt. 'Where shall we start''
After finishing her meal, Wendy decided to explore the BDSM community further in the realm of real life (IRL). She signed up for several forums and groups, participating in discussions about consensual power dynamics and BDSM practices.
During her online research, she came across an advertisement for a local event focused on Femdom, which sparked her curiosity. She carefully considered her options, ultimately deciding to attend the event with a sense of excitement and trepidation.
Email notifications started piling up in her inbox, including multiple responses from individuals interested in her story, eager to engage in a dialogue about their experiences and interests. Among them was 'slave mark,' who continued to express his desire to serve her in a consensual and rewarding Master-Slave dynamic (d/s).