An Evening with the Webcam Ch. 07

The relentless, unceasing pressure continued. His fingers did something down between my legs, and my reason faded. It was all too much-the shame, the humiliation, the growing discomfort, the longing and need-and still I wanted more. Wave after wave of raw physical ecstasy coiled around the uncomfortable fullness, and soon I became aware that he was holding his hand still and I was bucking my hips madly, sobbing, riding his fingers, grinding against his thumb, screaming with every thrust as I took myself. "Oh God oh God oh God," I whimpered as I wept and thrashed and drove myself onto those infuriating, fingers. "Oh, God, I'm going to come, please, please..."

He pressed his hand sharply against my belly. The pressure created a shockwave of discomfort bordering on pain, and I cried out. I bucked wildly, chasing the interrupted orgasm. He increased the pressure with his hand, and I howled. "It's too much!"

He pulled his fingers from me. I staggered and gasped. He gripped the nozzle inside me, and I felt myself stretching open again as he pulled it free. I yelped as it came out. "Hold it," he said.

I could feel the huge volume of liquid sloshing around in me. He put the nozzle in the sink, and I whimpered and squirmed. "Please, please," I begged, "it's too much, please!"

"Hold it," he repeated. He caressed my belly gently, then pressed the tips of his fingers into my soft flesh. I felt stretched and full beyond my capacity. Tears flowed from my eyes again, and my own wetness flowed down my thighs. He showed me the fingers that had been inside me, thickly smeared with white. "You are very wet," he said. "I think you like this."

"No! Too...it's too much!"

He laughed and wiped his fingers off on my breast. Even that little thing, that one simple act, made me feel objectified and possessed. Tears streamed down my face. "Please..."

He turned me away from the wall, and I staggered and leaned heavily against him. He put his hands on my shoulders and pressed me down, inexorably, until I was kneeling on the bathroom floor in front of him. Liquid gurgled and sloshed heavily within me, straining for release. His hands caressed my head and gathered up my hair. He pulled my head back, forcing me to look up at him. "Do you still like giving yourself to me?"

I nodded mutely, my cheeks tear-stained.

He guided the head of his stiff cock to my lips. I opened my mouth without a word.

He used my mouth roughly, thrusting his hips strongly over and over again, and soon he shuddered and released a torrent of thick warm goo. I gulped quickly, then gently licked the head and shaft of his penis as it softened in my mouth.

He smiled. "That felt very good," he said. He picked me up by my arms, and I felt sloshing inside me again. He helped me sit on the toilet. "You may release it now."

My body, stretched and filled to the limit, didn't even wait for a conscious decision. The warm water exploded out of me in a torrent. I let out a strangled cry and whimpered, feeling abruptly, catastrophically empty.

Robert grinned. "Get dressed so I can tell you about your errand." He left the bathroom; I picked up the discarded towel lying forlorn on the floor and wrapped it around myself. A last couple of sobs escaped; I felt drained, both literally and figuratively, and horny, and ashamed, and slightly apprehensive.

And I still hadn't come. Damnit, damnit, damnit.

He dressed ahead of me. I wiped my eyes and went into the bedroom to find him already half-dressed; unbuttoned white Oxford shirt over blue jeans. He was just zipping the jeans as I walked into the bedroom, and I caught a brief glimpse of the head of his cock as it disappeared. He noticed my gaze and smiled. "Still haven't had enough?"

"I'm still frustrated!" I snapped.

"Good. You won't be tonight when I get back from Jason's, I promise." He kissed my cheek. "I love you!"

I growled at him. "I love you too. Even though you're a bastard."

He grinned. "You love me because I'm a bastard, Jackie dear." He kissed my forehead, then gathered me into his arms, the gesture very tender.

I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him fiercely, tightly, and sniffled. "You made me cry!" I said accusingly.

"I did! Then I fucked your mouth," he chirped brightly.

"And you still haven't let me come!"

"I'm not done with you yet." He kissed my cheek and released me. "I told you I have something special planned for you. We haven't even started on that yet." He looked into my eyes and smiled as his fingers buttoned his shirt. "I want you to go shopping. Find a new outfit. Something really sexy; something that'll knock my socks off. Shouldn't take you more than an hour or two. Wear it home." He kissed my cheek again. "I'm going over to Jason's for a little while, but I can hardly wait to come back home."

I sniffled again, still feeling vulnerable and slightly ashamed, both for what he had just done to me and for my own responses, my own need.

He rubbed his hands together with glee, looking like a delighted ten-year-old who has just been told that Christmas came early this year and brought with it a week-long trip to Disneyland. I smiled slightly in spite of myself; his boyish enthusiasm seemed contagious.

"Here." He reached into the closet, pulled out a white pullover shirt and a pair of pants. "Hurry up and get dressed. You have some shopping to do!"

I dressed and followed him out to the living room. "I'm going to head over to Jason's now," he said. "He's supposed to be grilling some steaks this evening. I'll see you later!" He stopped at the door and drew me into a kiss.

I returned the kiss deeply. His arms wrapped around me, and I pressed my body tightly against his. He crushed me against him and his tongue pushed past my lips. I moaned, all my hunger channeled into the white-hot passion of that kiss.

We were both panting when he broke it off. I shook my head slightly to clear it. He smiled a dreamy, faraway smile. "Mmm, you are such a delight. Hold that thought until tonight."

He left, and I followed him out the door. He smiled and blew me a kiss as he drove off; I watched him go, not quite sure what I was feeling. At first, long ago, when I had gone to him and told him what I wanted, how I'd wanted to belong to him, to be made to do whatever he wanted me to do, he'd been tentative, unsure. Over time, he'd grown into the role, and it had become second nature to him. But now...

Now we truly were in uncharted territory. He'd found ways to make it work for him, beyond what I had originally envisioned, and this week had seen me do things I never believed I would do. Now I was the one who felt tentative and uncertain. These things he was doing to me...they thrilled me, excited me, but they also scared me. He had ordered me to give myself to another man, he had humiliated and exposed me, he had even made me cry...and he'd done it so skillfully that I wanted it, I craved it, I opened myself to more. Whatever he had planned as the finale to the week, I had a feeling it was going to go way beyond what I was prepared for...and the part that frightened me the most was how badly the small secret place inside me wanted it.

I mused on that feeling as I drove toward the mall. Whatever he was going to ask of me tonight, it would probably challenge me. Did I want that? Was I prepared to follow him wherever he was taking this? The rational part of my brain warned that Robert had already taken things past the point I was comfortable with, but another, insistent voice inside me said So? Isn't that what you want, to be his property, his slut, to give yourself to his whim? What did you think that would mean?

Something had changed, that night he'd made me put on a show for Jason, then told me to open my legs and my mouth to him. Jason's hands on my body, Jason's cock inside of me, Jason's voice whispering instructions to me, humiliating me...all these were things I'd shared with Robert, and somehow it seemed that by sharing them with Jason, I'd given a small piece of myself to him, without even knowing it, in a way that I could not undo.

And Robert showed no sign that this would be the end. How many more pieces of myself would he tell me to give away?

Are you sorry he did it? that small insistent voice asked.

I thought about that for a while.

No. No, I wasn't sorry. I had enjoyed it. I had enjoyed giving my body to this lover I had not chosen, I had enjoyed the feel of his hands and the smell and taste of him, I'd enjoyed humiliating myself, making myself dirty, for his pleasure. But more than that, I enjoyed hispresence. His participation in the things Robert did to me, the knowledge that he could be watching at any time. Far from diminishing what I had with Robert, these things seemed to intensify it, as if his witness to them made them more real. I felt a greater intensity, a greater force behind what Robert and I did when they were shared, and that was something I had certainly not expected.

So what are you going to do?

I knew the answer almost before the question finished resolving. Right there, in the car halfway to the shopping mall, I made the decision: whatever it was Robert would ask of me, whatever demands he placed on me, I would accept, willingly, without reservation. I would belong to him, I would be his partner and his whore and whatever else he wanted.

But first things first. Right now, that meant choosing a new outfit for the evening. Something sexy, he'd said; something that would knock his socks off.

That proved to be more difficult than I'd thought it would be. I spent far longer than I'd intended shopping. I found quite a large number of different possibilities, but nothing that seemed quite right. I tried on a tight-fitting, V-necked shirt with a skirt slit up the side-sexy, to be sure, but not anything particularly special. A slinky tube top and leather miniskirt...not me. A zip-up corset-style top and tight black shorts... definitely not me. A button-up men's shirt over tight black jeans...it had potential, I'd always thought there was something very sexy about a woman in a man's shirt, especially with a tie loosely around the neck and the top buttons undone, but...no.

I had walked back and forth in front of the shop several times, each time growing more frustrated. I noticed the dress in the window, but dismissed it-too formal, too long. Each time past, I looked at it a little longer before moving on.

After a particularly disastrous experiment with a pair of white Capri pants and a midriff-baring halter top, I came back to the store and looked at it for a long while.What the hell, might as well give it a try...

One look at the mirror in the dressing room and I knew I'd hit the jackpot. It was slinky and black, completely backless, plunging in the front in a way that perfectly accented the curves of my breasts, ending in a knee-length pleated skirt. It looked like the sort of dress one might wear either to a formal cocktail party or to a by-the-hour motel, and it fit my body as if it had been custom-tailored for me. I smiled, turning this way and that before the mirror, appreciating how it revealed just a suggestion of the sides of my breasts, how it came up around my neck and left my shoulders bare...sensual and sexy at once.

And I had nothing to wear with it.

I paid for the dress and carried it with me. Some additional searching eventually yielded up a dark burgundy strapless half-cup bra, ending just below my nipples, with a matching burgundy thong, the front a triangular panel of sheer mesh, translucent...blatant sexuality, a perfect counterpart to the subdued sensuality of the dress. I bought them both, put them on in the dressing room under the black dress, decided that I didn't like the bra with the backless dress...it really looked best, I thought, with nothing beneath it. I kept the panties on; the bra went back into my bag, with the rolled-up clothing I'd worn to the mall.

A tight black velvet choker to accent my neck, and, on impulse, a black and blue glittery beret to hold my hair back, creating a cascade that tumbled over my shoulders.Just the thing, I thought impishly,to hold my hair out of my face when I'm sucking cock...I blushed and looked away from the mirror. Assembled, the outfit was perfect...no matter what devious plan he had lined up, it would be appropriate.

I smiled. How fitting, I thought, now that I have made this decision to give myself to Robert more completely, that I should wrap this gift up in such a lovely package...

Heads turned as I left the mall and walked back out to the parking lot. I flushed at the attention, slightly embarrassed but also pleased.Oh, yes, I thought in silent answer to the tacit questions implied by the looks.Yes, I do. You have no idea.

As I neared home, my heart started beating faster, and I felt the butterflies in my stomach again. I didn't expect Robert to be home, but I had no idea when he would return, nor what would happen when he did. The butterflies fluttered stronger as I pulled into the driveway. Robert's car wasn't there, so I would probably have some time before whatever it was that would be happening tonight; I didn't know whether to feel relieved or nervous about that.

Nervous was, as it turned out, the correct response.

I walked into the living room and instantly stopped dead in my tracks. Robert, ever the sneaky trickster, had apparently fooled me by leaving when I did; it seemed he must have come back immediately after I had driven off. The living room had been completely rearranged in my absence. The wide-screen TV had been relocated to the far end of the living room, just below the camera mounted near the ceiling, and the couch had been moved off into some other room, leaving a wide expanse of open space. A wooden chair I didn't recognize sat in the center of the room, facing the television. Two wide leather straps with small buckles on the end hung gracefully from the arms of the chair.

Two folding tables had been set up on each side of the chair. Arranged neatly on the tables were all the toys from the toy bag-dildos, vibrators, plugs and clips and clamps of various descriptions.

No, not all the toys, I realized-all but one of the toys. One toy, a long, thick dildo with a suction-cup base, had been affixed to the hardwood floor about midway between the chair and the television, where it jutted up obscenely.

The television was turned on, connected to Robert's laptop, which was resting on the floor next to the TV stand. The screen was divided into two panels: one displaying the chair, which was carefully located exactly in the center of the view from the camera near the ceiling; the other showing the room from the vantage point of the camera built into the laptop, a worm's eye view of the length of the living room, the dildo affixed to the floor prominent in the foreground. Below the two camera feeds, a cursor blinked in a chat window.

My heart thudded. The butterflies became "Robert," I said aloud to myself, "you are a bastard. What are you up to?"

I stepped further into the room, in the range of the cameras. The cursor blinked steadily at me. I looked at myself, two different views of radiant sexuality in the brand-new dress, and felt the butterflies flutter.

There you are! A sudden line of text blipped into existence on the bottom of the screen, black letters pixilated on the large display. I jumped slightly.

I expected you home sooner.
We're just getting ready to put the steaks on the grill.
Perhaps you can solve a debate for us.

I looked suspiciously at the camera. "What kind of debate?"

Jason and I were just explaining to his guests that you will do any kinky, dirty thing you are told to do, no matter what it is.
A few of them don't believe it.

"What??!" I exclaimed. "Who's over there? Who are you talking to about me?"

Just some friends of Jason's. He's having a cookout. Hooked up his computer to his TV so everyone can watch. Say hi to everyone!

I felt myself turn red. "Oh, no, Robert," I stammered, "you're not going to...you can't be serious...no, that's way too..."

I am. I can be.
You didn't answer my question, though.
The debate we're having.
The guys won't believe it unless they hear it from you.
Tell them.

"Tell them what?"

You know what.
You like being told to do kinky, dirty things.
You will do whatever you're told.

I flushed again and looked around the living room. I had a pretty good idea about where this was going, and the resolve I'd felt in the car on the way to the mall started to evaporate. This constant pushing, this placing me in front of wider and wider audiences...the rational part of me rebelled against it. This hadn't exactly been what I had thought, back when we first began exploring this kind of relationship, and now, wrapped up amidst the arousal and the longing and the erotic thrill of being his sexual property, something else, a part of me that was slightly horrified at the way he exposed me to the world, and even more horrified at the parts of me that liked it. I shook my head, tongue-tied.

Tell them.

"I...no, I can't!"

Is it true?

I nodded meekly.

Is it true that you like being told what to do?
Is it true you like being made to do dirty things with your body?

"I...yes. Yes, it is."

A moment passed. No response. I set the bags and my purse down on the floor. My hands shook very slightly.

Is that your new outfit?
Come closer to the camera and let us see.

I took a deep breath to steady myself, and walked farther into the living room.

Stand in front of the chair.

I walked around the tables, a strange feeling crawling up my back as my eyes fell on the array of sex toys laid out on them. Just having other people see them, and by seeing them gain insight into my kinks and tastes, made me feel vulnerable and embarrassed.

Good.
Turn around.

I stood in front of the camera and turned, arms out.

Wow.
That is really beautiful.
You outdid yourself.
Very sexy.

I blushed and smiled, pleased.

We do still have a problem.
Some of the guys still don't believe that you will do anything you're told.

I looked down, silent, waiting for the inevitable. I had a feeling that there was only one way this could go, and I warred internally about whether or not I wanted it to go there. You don't have to do this, a part of me said.You can still choose to say no.

The other voice, the wild voice, answered.You want this. You want to do this. You want to give yourself to him completely.

To him, yes, but not to everyone, the rational part shot back. This isn't the same thing!

SHOW US UR TITS!!1

"What?"

Sorry. I was getting a burger.
A few of the guys would like to see your breasts.

I shuddered and wrapped my arms tightly around myself. "What? Now?"Don't do it!the rational part of my brain screamed.Don't even think about it!

No need to be hasty.
There are other ways to solve this debate.
Besides, that's such a sexy dress. I am enjoying looking at you wearing it.

Relief, and, just barely, a tiny hint of disappointment...could I really have wanted him to tell me to flash my tits at Jason's friends?Might as well admit it, the inner voice whispered,you like it.

Let's see if we can put this to rest another way.
Stand on one foot.

I frowned. The request seemed silly, like something a child might ask...not what I had expected at all. Stand on one foot? What the hell kind of request was that?

I did it, feeling a bit stupid. I balanced on one foot, arms outstretched, watching the image of myself on the screen. I glanced at the dildo protruding up from the floor in front of me, and my breath caught.He's toying with me...