Chasing Mistress Steph

Her "work" on their little project had initially consisted of composing the e-mails, a series of five or six total, in secession. She realized that as long as they were worded carefully, it didn't matter if the content was tailored to each individual would-be suiter or not. With hundreds of responses, who had the time to craft each e-mail individually? Her idea of an ex-model who liked golf as well as being into hardcore kink seemed to be a hit with the average American Joe. She herself had never played golf and knew nothing of the sport, but it didn't seem to matter. Initially, all she had to do was keep track of which one of the series of responses went to each e-mail address. However, that process that had quickly gotten easier once she had written a code that had automated all of that. Now, she rarely even bothered to read the hundreds of responses that came pouring in to the e-mail account each day.

Although when she did, she did find them interesting, a revealing study into the darker side of sexuality: Men wanting to be whipped. Men wanting to be spanked, caged, peed on, and violated with various plastic appendages. Or sometimes, they wanted her to do things to them that were even worse than all of this. Some of this stuff made her squeamish. If there was anything she had learned from all this, it was there was no limit to how gross some men could be. But then again, some of them also seemed desperate, in a way that was almost sweetly flattering. Some were lonely as well as desperate. And more than a few were married but "I can't let my wife find out about this." It didn't matter; her automated responses to all of these men was the same, and while a few eventually caught on, and even called her on the scam, the majority of them did not. Even when they received the second to last e-mail, which was the most important one: the one requesting payment for the "training kit." That was where she and Boris would rake in the rubles.

Only something seemed wrong. Why had the payments stopped abruptly? Up until recently, she had been corresponding with Boris every couple days, but she hadn't heard from him in nearly a week. So, she decided to drop him an e-mail, wondering if anything had gone wrong.

However, two days went by, and still there was no response from Boris- and no further payments to the account. Something was up. Exasperated, she turned to Alex.

"We haven't been paid for our project in over a week," she said. "What should I do? Call him?"

"Yeah, give him a buzz. That's weird. I dunno, I hope he's not pulling out on us. You'd think he'd tell us if something happened?" Alex was concerned.

"I don't know."

After some indecision, Ludmila rang Boris's cell phone.

"Yeah. Ludmila! My good friend! How are you guys?" he replied, in a voice that seemed almost sarcastic, like it was trying overly hard to be friendly.

"Whats going on, we haven't gotten paid in a while. Is everything okay?" She asked.

"Sure! Everything is fine!" he replied. "Better than fine, I'm going to start doubling my profits!"

"What do you mean? There hasn't been any money coming in..." She said flatly, but she could feel her hairs standing up.

"I've diverted the accounts to my own account and closed the other one. Sorry, but I really needed the dough for my move. New job, new life, you should visit me. It's great here!" He replied.

"Wait, WHAT??" She grew alarmed. "You. Can. Not. Be FUCKING SERIOUS!! You- you mean, you're just cutting us OUT?"

"Relax... Mistress. You guys already made plenty of money off it. It was my idea after all, right?"

"But I wrote all the e-mails! I set up the auto response program... You wouldn't have been anything without my help!"

"Yeah but... I handled the money. The important part. And now, I have copies of all the e-mails, and the automated reply program you set up. I copied everything so I could use it. So I can handle everything now."

"But the money..."

"It will all go to me now. Sorry, but come on. You gotta know this was coming..."

"You fucking slimeball! You piece of shit!"

"Dude, bro nar the hay huh!" Boris replied, mockingly.

"I can't believe you would rip us off like that! Why? What the fuck?"

"That's just business, you understand. Nothing personal." She could hear the snarkiness in his voice. "But I mean, it's not like you didn't have a hand in this. I bet there are plenty of men who are as pissed at you as you are at me right now. What are you gonna do? Go to the authorities and tell them you got ripped off by a scammer? They will have just as many questions for you."

"Good luck finding me by the way. Have a nice day." Boris added, before hanging up abruptly.

Ludmila slammed down the receiver, repeatedly. Alex, listening to the conversation from the next room, was livid with rage. He said told her that he would like to plant his foot up the little twerp's ass if he could ever catch him. But of course, Boris was hundreds of kilometers away; and without a forwarding address, who knew where to find him?

But Ludmila had calmed down, and she reassured him that despite Boris's abrupt double cross, they still had managed to sock away a nice little bit of cash for themselves. And for Valeriy too. Upset with hearing his parents yelling, he came into the room crying, thinking his parents were mad at him, and wondering what he had done wrong.

-10-

It had been nearly a week since Luke had sent Stephanie the tribute for his training kit. She had sent him a PayPal link to send the money to, and he had eagerly done so- and it was not a small sum either; it set him back five hundred dollars. He had balked at the sum, but then tried to justify it as a gentleman spending lavishly on a girl of his dreams, so what can be wrong with that? He had expected to hear from her within a couple hours of sending the payment. What could be keeping her? He sat by the computer and he waited by the phone. No e-mail came, and the phone never rang. And so, the weekend dragged on, and Monday rolled around. No phone call, no e-mail. He was despondent, to the point where even his co-workers noticed that he seemed unusually sad. After work, he wrote her back, sending her a good morning greeting before heading off to work that Monday:

"Dear Mistress Steph,

Good morning Mistress! I hope you have received my tribute. I sent it via PayPal as instructed. I hope everything is okay. Did the payment go through? I was really disappointed I didn't hear from you and hope I didn't do anything wrong. I am really looking forward to seeing you and receiving instruction. I thought about you last night, what I can do for you, and how I can serve you. You really are the Mistress of my dreams. Please let me know when we can meet in person. I hope I am not too pushy. Is there anything else you require?"

"Love, Luke."

But yet, as the day ended, there was no response. Neither did she respond when he sent her a good night e-mail, nor the next morning when he sent her a good morning greeting. And of course, no response the next day either.

By Thursday he was despondent. He seemed to know, deep down, that he would never hear from her again. Even by e-mail. If it was, in fact, even a "her."

And so, Luke gave up any further attempts at online dating altogether. Luckily though, he eventually settled for a nice, yet very vanilla, woman who lived in the next town over and worked as a barista. And although she was not 'kinky,' and their relationship had its ups and downs like everyone else's, and perhaps his deepest darkest sexual desires were never fulfilled, he could at least say he was satisfied. Because life is often unfair and is never perfect, and sometimes all you can do is learn from experience and move on.

-11-

Eighteen months later, a pudgy, middle aged recent male divorcee is casually browsing the online personal ad listings for western Iowa. Dating options aren't the best when you are pudgy, middle aged and recently divorced, but soon he spots something that catches his eye:

"Kinky Domme Mistress looking for submissive partner to own and use for my pleasure -29."

He clicks on the ad, suddenly excited. The message read, "I am a strong, beautiful Dominant woman, hardworking, professional and strict. I have many kinks. A personal favorite of mine is to compassionately introduce males to the delights of the BDSM world and turn them into my little B**ches. There's a whole new world out there regardless of your level!"

Daniel Pinkston's heart started beating faster. Maybe this woman will finally be the girl to satisfy his deepest darkest sexual cravings, those fantasies which were at least partly responsible for his recent divorce. His wife never understood his need to be tied up, spanked and submissive. She had only called it "perverted." But could this be his new soulmate!

Meanwhile, halfway across the globe, a young couple and their son have just settled into their new Saint Petersburg apartment. It is not an especially opulent apartment, nor are they an especially opulent family. But, they are happy at their new found jobs. The husband supervises workers loading forklifts, and the wife is the manager of the I.T. department at a large hospital. Their apartment, while not luxurious, is spacious, cozy and comfortable, and their son, a healthy, happy four year old, is celebrating his birthday today.

His father had gotten him a brand new pair of ice skates.