An Evening with the Webcam Ch. 07

Put your hands on your head.

I did as I was told, feeling more silly still. A quick, jagged memory of the bathroom flashed in front of my eyes, and little pinpricks of shame crawled up my back.

Mmm. I can see your nipples.

I looked down. Sure enough, my nipples stood hard against the dress.

Okay, you can stop now.
Most of the guys believe me now.
Still a couple of holdouts, though.
A couple of the guys have pointed out that standing on one foot is not kinky sex stuff.
What do you think?

"No." I looked down at my feet. "No, I guess not."

Well, then.
I guess they have a point.
We still have not demonstrated that you will do whatever dirty, kinky thing you are told to do.
So I can understand their skepticism.
How do you think we can address these doubting Thomases?

That question clearly had only one answer. I didn't give it to him.. I looked up directly at the camera and smiled. "I guess they'll just have to take your word for it," I said defiantly.

I think there might be another way.
I'm sure you can think of one too.

I blushed and looked down again, studying my feet. "You could tell me to do something kinky and sexual," I said in a tiny voice.

That's an interesting thought.
I suppose I could tell you to do something kinky and sexual.
If I did, would you do it?

The moment of truth had arrived. I whimpered, very quietly.If you say yes, that rational part of my brain told me,he will do it. He will make you degrade yourself in obscene ways for the enjoyment of all his friends. He will tell you to expose yourself to them and who knows what else. Time to make a decision.

"No," I told myself silently. "I've already made that decision."

I looked directly into the camera's hard round lens. "Yes," I said. "If you told me to do something kinky and sexual, I would do it."

Show me.
Touch your breasts.

I took a deep breath. Hesitantly, I brought my hands up the front of the dress, moved them over my breasts, up to my shoulders, back down again. I squeezed and fondled gently, felt my nipples harden. Somewhere deep inside, my emotions startled roiling.

I would say that qualifies as sexual, wouldn't you?

"Yes." My hands roamed freely over my breasts. I pinched my nipples lightly and sighed.

There is some debate over here as to whether or not it is kinky and sexual, though.
A few people seem to feel that you still have not demonstrated that you will do any kinky sexual thing you are told.

"Being ordered to touch myself in front of a camera for people I don't know isn't kinky?"

You make a good point.
I'll see what they think.

A minute passed. I tweaked my nipples, toyed with my breasts.

The vote is nine to two, with Jason and I abstaining.
They don't think that playing with your tits counts as "kinky."

I did the math, and felt my face grow hot.

We still need to convince them you will do whatever kinky sexual thing I tell you to do.

I glanced around at the arrangement of sex toys. "I have no doubt you'll find a way to do that," I said dryly. I continued fondling my breasts, sliding my hands down under them. Truth be told, I was beginning to enjoy it, in spite of my unseen audience. My nipples, made exquisitely sensitive by constant teasing over the past couple of days, sent little electric shocks through my body at every touch. I pressed the palms of my hands flat against them and moaned.

Now what do you suppose would qualify as "kinky?"

"That's not really the right question, is it? The right-oh!" I cupped my hands under my breasts and pressed my thumbs into my nipples; the sensation sent shivers through my body. Between my legs, I twitched and grew wet. As my excitement rose, so did my desire for him to tell me to do very dirty things to myself, the most obscene things he could imagine, to let me show him what I was capable of, to remove all doubt from the people watching. "The right question is, what do they think is kinky?"

Again, you make an excellent point.
I have one vote for "show us your tits," but I don't really think that's very kinky, in all honesty.
The consensus here is that everyone will know kinky when they see it.
Are you enjoying fondling yourself?

"I am," I said truthfully.

I think we will need to address this issue systematically.
I will tell you to do things.
After you do them, we will vote on whether or not they count as kinky, dirty, sexual things.
We will see how long it takes to find something that everyone agrees is kinky.
What do you think?

"I think the voting will be rigged and this will take quite a while." My own cheekiness surprised me; I almost felt like I was goading him, daring him to do his worst. My image on the television wore an expression part worried, part haughty defiance; I wondered if Robert could tell what I was feeling.

Get down on your hands and knees.

On the screen, I saw my face turn red; a small detached part of my mind observed that my shame was more transparent than I thought it was. I knelt carefully on the hard wooden floor, and leaned over on all fours. From this position, I noticed, I was precisely at eye level with the Webcam built into Robert's laptop.

Crawl around the chair. Wag your ass.

I looked up at myself on the screen. The camera peered down my dress, making it amply clear I was not wearing a bra. Slowly, I crawled on my hands and knees in a loose circle around the chair. I swayed my hips back and forth for the camera, letting my audience see me from all sides as I made the circuit. My breasts hung and bobbed, dragging my nipples across the inside of the dress, making me hiss. By the time I finished the path, they were screaming, begging to be pinched. I couldn't remember a time when they'd been so deliciously sensitive.

That is so hot.
You have no idea.
Now crawl over to the dildo on the floor.

I crawled slowly, exaggerating the emphasizing of my hips, crouching down to let the camera gaze deeper into my cleavage. That wild, irrational defiance drove me; I was determined to beat him at this game by driving myself farther than he thought I would go. Whatever he asked, I would do, better and more fully than he thought; if he wished to humiliate me in front of this audience, I would find every shameful, degrading part of it and exaggerate it, welcome it, allow the humiliation to consume me.

I reached the rubbery flesh-colored phallus and crouched over it expectantly.

Jason and I have described your virtues at sucking cock.
Now we'd like a demonstration.
Lick it.

My heart thudded. I slowly opened my mouth and extended my tongue, then bent down and swirled it around the wide, bulbous head of the fake rubber cock. I let my tongue explore the head, lapping and flicking until it shone with wetness. Then I ran my tongue and lips down the side of the dildo until my cheek rested on the cool floor. I remained there for a moment, face to the floor, my tongue caressing the side of the dildo, before I worked my way back up again. I kissed the head when I arrived at the top, then worked my way down the other side. By the time my other cheek touched the floor, the dildo glistened.

Suck it.

I lifted my head over the top of the thick veined toy and looked directly into the camera. Very deliberately, I licked my lips and moaned. I lowered my head until my lips lightly touched smooth round rubber, looked up into the camera from beneath my bangs, and moaned again. I parted my lips and took the head halfway into my mouth, still watching myself on the laptop screen. I drank in every detail-the way this position, kneeling on hands and knees, exposed my cleavage; the way my lips stretched around the girth of the wet pink dildo-and I pictured a group of men gathered around a television screen, exchanging crass, demeaning comments, enjoying my objectification. My cheeks grew hot, and I savored the humiliation.If they want to see me suck cock, I'll show them just how filthy a cocksucker I am.

I opened my mouth wider, took the dildo deeper, until it touched the back of my throat. I wanted to take its entire length, feel it down my throat, but it was too thick; much larger than anything I had successfully deep throated before.

I raised my head up the length of the shaft, then descended again until it pushed once more against my throat. I relaxed my throat and worked it deeper, struggling with the massive bulbous head, until I choked.Yes! that savage defiance said.Choke on it! Make yourself take it!

I bobbed my head up and down, slurping and sucking and forcing it against the back of my throat. I sputtered and coughed and gagged around the thick shaft. The thought that my discomfort might be arousing the people watching me brought on a fresh wave of humiliation, which in turn sent a trickle of warm wetness leaking from the warmth between my legs.Do you like this? I asked my audience silently.Do you like seeing a woman on her hands and knees choking herself on a dildo? Do you like seeing me make a whore of myself just to entertain you?

Then the unexpected happened. My throat opened up and the dildo slid all the way down. My nose touched the floor.

I paused there. A vivid picture appeared in my head, of how I must look, on my hands and knees on the floor, face down, mouth stretched wide around a thick rubber cock, ass in the air as if begging to be fucked. The imagery felt shockingly, breathtakingly submissive and shameful all at once. I imagined strong hands on the back of my head, holding it down, a hard cock shoving its way in my ass, mouth and anus stretched open for my lover's pleasure, heedless of my own discomfort... I held the pose and rocked my hips in the air. Without warning, my throat spasmed, and I sat up quickly, gasping, eyes watering. I panted heavily, and my chest heaved.

Wow.
I didn't know you could take something that big down your throat.
You must be really turned on.

I ran my hands over my breasts. "What about you? Did that turn you on?"

Yes.
The vote now stands at 4 people who believe what you just did is dirty and kinky, 6 who want more proof, and 1 vote for "show us your tits."

"What if I don't want to show you my tits?"

Does it matter?

"No."

Do you want to show us your tits?

"No."

Show us your tits.

I stood and turned to face the camera squarely. Without a word, I reached behind my head. My fingers found the clasp holding the dress around my neck. A quick manipulation and it was open; the front of the dress fell. I wrapped my arms around myself, ran my hands up my arms to my shoulders, crossing them in front of me, hiding them. Slowly, with an act of will, I forced myself to slide my hands down over my breasts, cupping them, and present them to the camera.

You didn't want to let these people ogle your breasts?

"No." I ran my fingers in circles around my taut nipples, coaxing them to stand out further.

Then why did you?

"Because you told me to." I drew my shoulders back proudly, thrusting my breasts forward for the camera. Silently, I said to myself,Because I love being your slut. Because I love the way it feels when you make me do humiliating things I don't want to do. Because I love giving myself to you, letting you possess me this way.

An epiphany dawned.Because I am proud of the way I can do what you tell me to do even when it's hard. Because I am proud when others see how I give myself to you.

Take off the dress completely.

I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks, one by one. I faced the camera again, and wriggled my hips as I shimmied out of the dress. I folded it neatly and set it carefully next to the chair, then stood facing the camera wearing only the dark red thong panties with the sheer mesh see-through front. The dark patch of wetness showed clearly on the screen.

I stood still, legs apart, arms at my sides, awaiting my next instruction.

One of the people here has a question. I think you can answer it.
He wants to know what the dark green object on the right-hand table
Sorry
My right. Your left.
He wants to know what the dark green object standing on the corner of the table to your left is.

I turned, found what he was referring to, picked it up. "This?"

Yes. Tell him what that is used for.

I held it up. "This..."I flushed and stopped, tongue-tied. Damnit, I could call myself filthy names; I could masturbate openly as I moaned and sighed into a voice mail box; why was this so difficult?

I took a breath, started again. "This is a anal plug made out of granite. It's used for-"I stopped myself again.No, I told myself.Describe how YOU use it. Be graphic.

"I lube it up and shove it up my ass. It's cold and very hard. It's also quite large, as you can see." My face burned crimson. "It's near the limit of what I can take down there. This thing can get pretty painful if I leave it in for a long time, which I sometimes do." I forced myself to look steadily at the camera, though I desperately wanted to turn away. "Sometimes, if I want it to hurt, I don't lube it first. Instead, I put it in my mouth before I shove it up my ass, and just get it wet that way."

Show us.
Put it in your ass.

"Should I use lube?"

Do you want it to hurt?

"Yes."

Use lube.

I slid down the red thong panties, just enough to give me access. Robert had thoughtfully placed the bottle of lube near the plug; clearly, he had thought ahead. I squeezed a generous dollop onto the top of the large stone plug and spread it around with my hand.

When it was sufficiently slippery, I turned away from the camera and knelt on the floor. I bent over the chair, reached between my legs; my questing fingers located the entrance to my ass, and I wiped the excess lube around it.

Relax, I told myself as I brought the plug between my legs. Breathe. The cold tip touched my anus, and I shivered. With slow, steady pressure, I worked it in, feeling myself opening up to it. I felt my sphincter fight against the intrusion, and I increased the pressure. Slowly, bit by bit, I stretched open around it.

When I reached the point where I felt that I could stretch no wider, I held my hand still and pushed backward against the chair. The giant plug slipped into my ass in a sudden rush. I clamped down tightly against it and let out a gasp; the shock took my breath away, making my eyes water and my vision swim.

I lay there for a minute, panting, and let the feeling gradually subsided to a throbbing ache. When my vision cleared, I straightened with some difficulty and stood unsteadily facing the camera.

Did that hurt?

"Not as much as I wanted it to." I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and stood still, panties pulled partway down, feeling that implacable weight.

Are you wet?

I turned slightly to face the camera directly. The heavy mass of stone in my ass shifted with the slightest motion. I opened my legs as far as the panties around my thighs would allow. I slid my hands across my body, over my breasts, down my sides, over my silky-smooth naked mound; then, with a sharp, abrupt motion, pushed three fingers deep into my cunt. "Oh!"

Another quick motion and they were out. I raised my fingers and examined them, slick and glistening. "Yes." I blushed furiously. I touched my lips lightly with my fingertips, wetting them with my own juices. "Very." I licked my lips. My face turned even deeper red, and hot shame spread slowly through my body, lending a ruddy glow to my skin. I took my fingers in my mouth and licked them clean.

We want to see.
Sit in the chair.

I sat demurely, legs together. The heavy granite plug, only slightly warmer now than it had been, pushed farther into my ass as I place my weight on it.

Do you remember how you closed your legs, that first night I made you put on a show for Jason, when I told you he was watching?

"Yes." The memory of that night flooded back.

We're going to make sure that does not happen again.
Put your legs up over the arms of the chair.

I drew one leg free of the panties, and left them dangling loosely on my other thigh. I hooked my knees up over the padded wooden arms. The position spread my thighs wide and shifted my hips forward, bringing the round base of the plug into plain view. Nothing was hidden; nothing left to the imagination.

Use the straps.
Tie them there.

My fingers felt thick, reluctant to comply. Slowly, I forced myself to pick up each strap in turn, wrap it around my leg and the arm of the chair, draw the buckle tight. When I was finished, I was unable to close my legs or turn to hide myself.

It was worse than I thought it would be.

Not only did I feel exposed, vulnerable, a creeping feeling of helpless took hold as well, mixing with the humiliation. My chin quivered, and I could not bring myself to look at the camera.

He wasn't finished exposing me.

On the table to your left, you will find the clips.
Use them.

My heart thudded and pounded. I turned to look. They rested there exactly where he'd said: two leather straps, each connected by a black cord to a wide metal clip tipped with rubber. My hands shook as I picked them up, and little rivulets of sweat dripped down my breasts.

I whimpered as I fitted each strap around my upper thighs. I picked up the first clip, held it open against the spring, and carefully clipped it to my labial lip. I cried out as the clamp bit down, unable to stop the exclamation from escaping my lips. Then I picked up the second clip and repeated the process on the other side, crying out again as it clamped down on my other lip.

Now open yourself.

From somewhere far away, I heard a choked sound, midway between a groan and a sob, and realized that the sound had come from me. I took the ends of the cords and pulled. They slipped through the straps around my thighs and pulled on the clips; my labial lips spread open wide. On the television screen, a large bead of pearly white wetness rolled from my gaping cunt and trickled down around the base of the heavy anal plug. Nothing I had ever done before-not being given to Jason, not kneeling on the bedroom floor and being made to beg for his cock in my mouth, not even squirting body washed mixed with his come all over my body-had ever made me feel quite so thoroughly, completely objectified.

Do you like tasting your own juices?
Tell the truth.

I shook my head, "No. I know that it turns you on."

Pick up the long double-headed dildo I sent you.
Put it in your cunt.

Another choking sob. I seemed frozen in molasses; every movement came in slow motion. The long black dildo felt unnaturally heavy as I lifted it.

I brought it down between my splayed legs, slid the head into my wide-open cunt. It stretched me wider, and the plug shifted painfully inside its tight slippery hole. I cried out loudly in pain and shame.

Fuck yourself.
Tell everyone what you did with this the first time you used it.

I gingerly slid the dildo deeper and moaned. "I-you made me... You sent the dildo in a box to my office when I was at work. You told me to lock the office door and strip naked." I whimpered, moved the dildo a little bit faster. " I took off all my clothes in the office and fucked myself with this dildo until I came." My ears burned; my face burned; my nipples stood out as hard as the granite toy. "I-"

Tell them. Tell them everything.

"I fantasized about being raped in the elevator at the office while I masturbated." The surge of humiliation made me clench around the dildo. "When I came, I took a picture of myself and sent it to you."