‘I have to apologise for something.’
‘Really? What’s that? Don’t tell me you faked it.’
‘No, no, I did everything you said. To the letter. But I didn’t wait for your permission to come. I was already coming when you gave it.’
Seconds ticked by. I bit down on my forefinger, desperate for the little bleep heralding an incoming message.
‘I’m very sorry, sir,’ I typed into the silence.
Then, ‘I understand if you want to punish me.’
Ah, a response.
‘You have many lessons to learn, AtYourService, but I’m a patient man and I like to teach. If you were the fully formed submissive, I would have no challenge, and I would be bored. So don’t worry about needing instruction. I can give it.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Now, you’ll need to be taking those clips off. And do it slowly. You’ll find the sensation quite intense.’
I shook my head, astonished that I had forgotten all about the clamps. The dull throb of my nipples had faded into the background once my lust had flooded in.
SecretSadist was quite right. My nipples roared back to painful life as soon as the little tormentors were removed and I danced around the room on tiptoes, making every grimace under the sun, relieved that nobody could see me.
‘OUCH!’ I typed.
‘Ha. Painful, eh?’
‘Very.’
‘What do your nipples look like?’
‘Red alert.’
‘I’ll bet. So, you mentioned a punishment. Well …’
Oh dear. The ellipse stretched out to the crack of doom.
‘Today is Saturday. Until next Saturday, nothing will touch your pussy. I am sentencing you to a virtual chastity belt.’
‘No orgasms?’
‘That’s correct. Just goodness and virtue, for a whole week. I shall expect you to check in with me every evening at approximately nine o’clock, when I shall weave you a filthy fantasy in which you will star. But you will not touch yourself, just read it and weep. Or squirm.’
‘That’s awfully cruel, sir. Brilliantly cruel, in fact.’
‘I know. Goodnight, AYS. Behave yourself.’
‘Goodnight, sir. I will.’
It was an arduous week. Every day I worked hard, every evening I did my marking, did my planning, then logged on to read another of SecretSadist’s gothically kinky sex fantasies. I felt my clit swell and my pussy flood, my knickers grow wet and my nipples grow hard, but I kept my hands on the keyboard, as ordered, throughout.
Afterwards, I would take a shower, a vain attempt to wash away my arousal, but the silky, soapy shower gel felt so sensuous and the steam so humid that it made it worse. It would take just the stroke of a fingertip …
I took to wearing a pair of those tight figure-fixer knickers to bed, just because they were so damn hard to wriggle a hand inside. I would lie on my front, thighs clamped together, hands raised up above my head, face pressed into the pillow, trying to think about anything but SecretSadist and when we might meet and what might happen at that meeting.
My dreams were vivid and overblown with sensual imagery. I was tied to a tree; I was lying in a bath of feathers that tickled me beyond endurance; a hairdryer was being blown all over my body; a thick snake parted my thighs and pressed its head to my pussy lips.
I think I must have had orgasms in my sleep. It certainly felt like it. But I couldn’t be held accountable for those, could I? I couldn’t definitively say they had happened. My chastity was intact.