She sat at the airport gate, her composed face pointed at the window, her gaze looking out into the middle distance. Outside the rain fell steadily, from roiling, dark-gray clouds. The near-darkness gave all of those at the gate reason for hope, since their flight terminated at St. Lucia in the Caribbean. Their weather there was a far cry from this rain stuff.
She shifted in her seat. She was dressed well, with sensible black ballet flats, a trim pair of slacks that hugged her rather curvy bottom, and a conservative top that tried but ultimately failed to hide her bustline. She wore a scarf around her heck, a colorful paisley, and her overall attractiveness drew everyone’s eyes. More than one person wondered what a beautiful woman like her was doing flying to St. Lucia alone.
It was good that no one could Read her thoughts, because the composed exterior she projected hid a mental state closer to panic. How many times had she asked herself what the fuck are you doing, Rose? How many times had she second-guessed a decision snap-made right in the aftermath of all the upheavals her personal life suffered a few months back. Not that things had improved for her on the personal front all that much. But this trip, completely out of character for her, still held her in equal parts of terror and luxury allure.
She turned her wrist and checked her watch, and flicked her eyes to the phone. There, on her mobile app, was the entire reason for this trip. This virtual world in which she lived, practically daily, and for over a decade, had led her to this. The name that had so often been a central point in her life was there – offline, but still there. She let the hand holding the phone drop into her lap, and once more her attention focused outside. Where was she?
Over a decade ago, she had discovered a virtual world system. She had been a common resident of text-based chat rooms for a while, and was used to the somewhat preciousy pleasure of such roleplays. She could be anything she wanted online – a young little seeking a Daddy, or a strong Domme desiring a submissive. In the real world, she was a staid, conservative homemaker who diligently supported her husband in his affairs. She raised the kids and raised them right. She and her husband had met and married young, and had kids young; being in her early forties when the kids left home to go into their adult lives left her Somewhat at wits end.
They were not rich but affluent. She controlled the household spending carefully and as a result, once the kids were beginning to grow more mature, she and her husband realized that they would have some cash to spend. They were not lavish but at the same time could afford to treat themselves how they wanted. They traveled mostly, and in a good way.
Bu age and the weariness that raising children brings badly afflicted their sex life. Whilst young they often made love four or five times a week. As the children came and their needs begandominating their day to day, such tender moments of affection dwindled. From four times a week down to one. Then down to maybe twice a month. Then down to once a month. They managed to hover there for many years, occasionally enjoying a second intimate moment. But as much as they looked at each other and promised more such moments, life interrupted.
Rose fidgeted in her seat again. As before she checked her phone, and still the name she was hoping to see appear as online had not yet appeared. She checked her watch again. Even though there was ample time, her edges in general could easily slip into panic. Once more her hand fell into her lap, and she returned into her mind. How did I get here?
She chuckled, aloud, then looked around guiltily. But everyone was far too focused on their own selves to worry About a soft noise from her. She settled down a little.
The chat rooms had been the start. Oh, how precious she had felt that first time that she had interacted withAnother person via chat. In that moment it had been the hottest thing she had ever done. The children, away at school, the husband, away at work, the clothes cleaned matching the floors, leaving her idle and bored. In such moments, her strong sex drive that was normally tucked nearby away, would push through. Porn seemed so cheap to her; the desire to interact with another person brought her to the computer.
And so that First time, her right hand busy rubbing her sex furiously, her left inexpertly replying to his crude come-ons, she came and came hard. Harder than she had come in a long time. And in fact, she realized that her husband had not managed to get her off the last two times they’d made love. He had gotten his fun, she recalled. She had been left to touch herself under the covers listening to him snore, and her orgasm had been unfulfilling. But this one, the one just experienced, left her heaving in her office chair. Her sweater had been pulled up, and she’d yanked her bReasts from her bra. Her nipples were so stiff they were almost sore, and her pussy was sodden yet satisfied.
That night she had stumbled so often in front of her husband while they talked. But the longer they talked, the more she realized that he had no idea. Still, the guilt remained strong for a few weeks. But like any strong drug, her libido demanded satisfaction and she found herself once more in front of the computer.
It became a habit. And once the virtual worlds opened up, and brought with it the pleasure of the visual imagery to go with the tawdry words, the habit became an addiction. She had always had some money of her own, from long ago. She had always tapped it carefully; she scolded herself for spending on an online computer game but at the same time she wanted – needed in fact – to represent herself well.
She shifted again in her seat. After cycling through the same worried glance at her phone, she resumed pondering what brought her there.
It wasthe BDSM. In her real world, she made love to her husband the way they thought society expected of them. It was limited to missionary, the occasional doggy-style and even less occasional oral. The first time that she found herself – or rather, her virtual avatar – tied to a bondage post, she gaped at the computer screen. It happened to be that her pants and panties were off and her fingers were so busy. That day she came four times; had her husband touched her that night she might have whimpered in pain and have the whole thing come undone.
She understands the allure. It was an act that she could never do in real life. But it stoked the imagination, and engaged her mind; both elements led directly to real arousal, and real arousal led to real, and powerful, and satisfying, orgasms. In her virtual world she took baby steps into that life, and at various times found herself owned, or owning another. She began researching BDSM concepts offline, sometimes at night with her laptop or iPad while her husband was snoozing or off puttering about. She became fascinated with the concept of control – ceding it, or taking it.
But as partners came and went she soon realized that her virtual world was identical to the real in one key way – the avatars were driven by people, and those people had varying degrees of commonality to her. She grew picky, both with potential subs and potential Dominants. There was a lengthy dance to undergo before the ritual of ownership was completed. And when such relationships collapsed, which unfortunately they often did, she was left to handle real life heart ache. The sense of guilt had been dashed long ago. It was replaced by geneuine human emotions, and that made the virtual world seems much more real.
It did not take her long to realize that the vast majority of avatars in her world were driven by men yet the overall sex makeup within the world was skewed heavily female. Sometimes the men driving their female avatars were easily discerned. Others took much longer. One tell-tale was that a gorgeous woman sportsed a big, thick cock. That was very nearly a guarantee that the avatar driver was male in real life. Yet she played along, because it was more fun that way. And besides, she thought, if the avatar driven managed to arouse her in real life then more power to him. Or her. She realized that she did not care.
But that realization did take her down different paths. One path involved her finding real life men dressed as women who had a need to submit. Often she controlled those avatars’ lives very closely. It aroused her to have a sissy whimper to her in a private message, because she suspected that the real life male had a raging erection and a desperate need to touch himself. She grew to control all aspects of their lives – from making this display their cocks to restricting what They could or could not wear. She routinely used chatity devices as part of her interactions with such men, knowing that thiswas a triggering point for their arousal.
Yet at the same time she refused to deny her other need to be controlled. That held just as much erotic allure, especially the use of bondage. Nearly every time that she gazed upon the sight of her avatar tightly restrained, and the interaction between her and her Dom/me heated up, she would be nearly frantic with the need to orgasm in real life.
When she met Evelyn at a hangout spot she favored, she was in between all such relationships. She still had long-term friends with whom she played when the opportunities arose, but the last two relationships had crashed around her. She had not been in a funk, but was being cautious nonetheless.
Evelyn’s form was typical. She featured a very lovely face with short blond hair. Her profile suggested a lengthy resume of BDSM delights. She was a dominant, which at that moment appealed greatly to Rose. She was busty and soon Rose discovered that Evelyn seemed to have a key to her heart, mind and soul.
No one, no single avatar, had ever consumed her that way. Her Mistress soon became the sole focus of her virtual life, and Rose had never felt happier. Weeks stretched into months, and months into years, and still they were a pair. With such a long-term relationship, they came to know a great deal about the other. Their hopes and fears, their real life issues they faced, and in a way were each other’s most important support. Rose, in fact, would tell this faceless Evelyn things that she would not even whisper aloud in her own home. Not all of it was sexual. In fact, as months turned into years, their friend was more real than ever.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, starting her. She looked down. Anyone looking at her in that moment would have seen both the tremendous smile light up the pretty woman’s face and at the same time noted how red her cheeks had gone. Rose, on the cusp of turning her virtual Mistress into her real life Mistress, feel her heart racing.Her mouth was dry. Yet despite the nerves, she felt the seizing heat between her legs. She had defeated a panty liner for that exact reason; Evelyn made her wet online. She fully expected Evelyn to make her wet in real life as well.
Rose turned, staring avidly down the corridor of the airport. Then, she spotted the woman whom she fervently hoped – even prayed – was Evelyn. Rose’s reaction was that of stunned need. God, she was gorgeous. A beautiful face, a curvy, ample body that seemed to ooze sex appeal, and a huge smile adorning her face. Rose found herself standing slowly, turning to face the woman who had owned her virtually for now two years.
“Evelyn?” Rose asked, completely unable to raise her voice above a whisper.
“It’s me, my darling Rose. My god you’re stunning,” she gushed. Swift as could be Evelyn pulled Rose into the tightest, most pleasant hug that she had ever felt. And just like that she was assaulted by so many emotions that she feared she might burstinto hysterical tears. Evelyn seemed to know this, and stroked Rose’s back slowly.
“It’s all right. You’ll be all right my love. I have you. I have you,” Evelyn crooned softly into Rose’s ear.
“My god. Oh. Oh my god,” Rose stammered. She pulled back from the embrace. “I still can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Evelyn sat and still clapping Rose’s hand in hers, pulled her back into a seated position. “I cannot either. But then again I cannot fathom the loss you suffered, either.”
Rose looked down. The heart attack had been fatal, suddenly, and cast her adrift from the world. It was only Evelyn’s suggestion that they meet, in real life, for two weeks in St. Lucia where no one know them, that shocked Rose out of her funk. Rose distinctly remembered it – saying “fuck it” aloud as she pressed the button to buy the airline tickets. As she paid the money to join her Mistress in a secluded, posh resort on an island she had barely researched. As she then woke the next day nearly screaming “what the fuck did you do?” yet…also completely unable to undo that stroke of zero fucks given.
“It’s been brutal. As you know,” Rose added. Their conversations about the subject and this upcoming trip had dominated the past months of their time together. Rose never once tried to pull her hand from Evelyn’s grip – the human touch was far too strong to break.
“I know, my darling, I Know.” Evelyn spoke softly, soothingly. It was so wonderful to hear her voice, a smokey breathy one that – to Rose’s ears – was impossible musical and decidedly erotic. Evelyn always had these little names for her – darling, lover, sweety – and hearing them from her real voice left a visceral thrill in its wake.
“I’m scared.” Rose had admitted this multiple times.
“I am, Too,” Evelyn said, yet projected confidence in her voice. “But I suspect that this will be the greatest vacation of your life.” This was punctuated with a firm hand squeeze. Evelyn leaned close. “In fact,I know it will be. My little slut,” she ended in a whisper meant for Rose’s ears alone.
How many times had Evelyn labeled her “my little slut?” Thousands, probably. And as Rose flushed critic, she acknowledged that hearing it in real life decimated any remaining bits of defense she might have retained. She was Evelyn’s for two weeks. “Thank you Mistress,” she whispered back.
“Good.” This was said louder, and Evelyn got comfortable as possible in her seat. “That’s settled then.”
“Yes,” Rose said, her head bobbing obediently. As they often did, they managed to get off into other conversations. But now without the tedium of typing, their information exchange was far faster, deeper and wider-ranged. Both had booked first-class tickets, and by unspoken agreement Stayed far apart in line. Rose only wanted to know her as Evelyn, her Mistress, and not by her real name. She knew it, of course, by now, but preferred the fantasy over the reality. And hearing her real name would sadden her, and knock her out of her little suspension of disbelief. Since Evelyn acted similarly, Rose concluded her Mistress felt similarly.
Yet on the plane they were next to one another. They continued sitting and chatting idly, watching the passengers board the plane. Everyone had expected, smiling faces – who, after all, would be sour-faced boarding a plane terminating in paradise? Their hands grazed often, and once or twice they claped hands, exchanged a meaningful look, and then let go.
When the stewardess came to take their orders, Rose demurred but Evelyn would have none of it. “Oh no, my dearest friend,” Evelyn said, overriding Rose’s objects. Evelyn looked at the pretty, slim stew. “Champagne for us both.”
The stew smiled and nodded, and moved on. Evelyn studied her form for a moment, then leaned close and whispered in Rose’s ear. “I should make you go up to her and offer your tongue. I bet that tart would accept.” Rose, predictably, blushed a bright red, much to Evelyn’s delight.
The drinks were served and sipped slowly while conversational bubbled all around them. Rose could not help herself, and continuously turned her head to study the profile of her Mistress. She was so glorgeous, Rose thought to herself. Robust and confident – the kind of confidence Rose longed to find in herself. But she never managed to pull it off, and here was Evelyn to whom it seemed to come naturally. Rose had no doubt that if this were an overnight flight that the young stew who had obviously captured Evelyn’s eye would be made to knee and serve. But such thoughts were kept to herself, for now.
“So two weeks. Nothing to do,” Evelyn witnessed happily. “I cannot wait.”
“Me neither,” Rose agreed. “I need it.”
“You’ll be needing all sorts of things,” Evelyn said offhandedly. At that moment Evelyn leaned forward and put her hand into her purse. “In fact,” she said softly, her face turning to face Rose’s, “you need something right now.”
“I…do?” Rose asked. Yet she thought she saw what might be in Evelyn’s hand, and a familiar thrill did not just course through it – it enveloped her. Did she shake? She thought she might have tremored.
“Yes. You need to use the restroom,” Evelyn said. “An…exchange?”
Evelyn’s hand slide over and Rose found herself holding an object familiar enough to be identified by touch alone. Yet this anal plug was perhaps a touch bigger than hers. “Yes, my little slut,” Evelyn crooned into her sub’s ear. “You’ll wear this and have those wet panties in your hand to give to me. For safekeeping,” she added with a crown.
Never in her life did she expect to say it, and when she did her heart gave a little leap. “Yes, Mistress.” She stood with the plug clutched tightly in her hand and went to the bathroom. She had to use it from pure nerves alone, and then winced as she had to slide the plug in her ass without any warm up. The feeling of beingstretched and stuffed made her pussy leak, and now without the aid of her panties and protector, there was a strong likelihood that she would show a discernible wet spot in her slacks by the time they landed. The desire to stroke her cliporis and engage in pleasure was strong, but she suppressed it. She returned to the seat, handing the wet underwear to her Mistress who took it, smiled, and tucked them into her pursuit.
Evelyn then smoothly moved into other conversational topics. Rose felt a touch of whip-lash. In one moment, made to stuff her bum full and strip away her undies, and in the next discussing some minor point of back-home politics. The conversation was pleasant, and engaging. Evelyn was smart, and well-read with opinions and thoughts on a great many things. Rose was thrilled to engage in that level of discussion. It had been a while, and it almost took her mind off of the fullness in her ass.
The dinner was served. The pretty, slim stew served them and added anothe drink, and smiled at them both. As she moved away, Evelyn leaned closed and whispered “She’s so hot I think I’d make you worship her toes first!”
Rose stiffened in her seat, all too easily able to see in her mind kneeing obediently at the feet of the long-legged, pretty steeldess, bending down to gently kiss and patr the younger woman’s feet while her Mistress looked on. The thought renewed the Knowledge of the plug stretching her ass, and both thoughts together renewed the heat in her sex. She swallowed hard, realizing that she was now feeling a dampness spread and not for the first time cursed the fact that her body grow very wet in such short order. She saw, from the corner of her eye, Evelyn gazing at her, and realized that a reply was expected. “I… would…enjoy that, Mistress.”
“I know you would, you little slut,” Evelyn whispered. Her hand had grabbed Rose’s, and now clutched it tightly. Her mouth was so close to Rose’s ear, that with each breath Rose feltthe warm puff of blown air on her ear. It ticked pleasantly, and a shiver rocketed down her spine, shaking her entire body.
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