tagBDSMMade to Please

Made to Please


Amanda Layton-Ward sat and sobbed silently in front of her computer screen. Tears trailed down her ashen cheeks, her big heart breaking at the thought that another Valentine's Day had slipped by without a single word from anyone.

Moments earlier, she had opened up her email section and being the eternal optimist, she had sat hesitantly in front of the computer screen waiting, whilst pressing the send, receive button. She had closed her eyes, whispered her hearts desire and then as her breath died somewhere in between her lungs and her mouth, she waited to hear the notifier, which always sounded whenever she received mail. The chime of the animated bell finally sounded and she slowly opened her tightly closed eyes almost daring herself to look at the monitor. Amanda's head then dropped to her chest and as she looked at the floor, she sighed sadly.

She had received six messages but none of them had brought forth the validation she so desperately needed. All six messages were spam: ironically, three of them were sales pitches for Viagra.

Normally she would not have conceded to such foolishness as prior to actually finding the few male contacts she had met on the internet, she knew without a doubt that she would have a snowflakes chance in hell of receiving one. She dared to hope that this time it would be different, but reality had hit home with undeniable accuracy. She was not special... not to anyone. Not even to the men who knew her best.

The hurt inside Amanda was palpable and whilst her emotions took over unleashing a torrent of still unshed tears, her body tried to numb the painful symptoms associated with a broken heart.

It is incorrect to say that Amanda had never felt so undesirable. Amanda had felt the painful scourge of abandonment, loneliness, and rejection all her life. She had always coveted the prospect of being special to males in general but to date she had always missed that unseen mark of acceptability. Men had never been able to see the woman she was for the excess weight that she carried.

This year however, she really believed that it would be different, because the men with whom she played sexually online would now know just how special she really was.

Devastation settled over her like a wet blanket, heavy and uncomfortable. Now, once again, she felt truly abandoned and rejected by the male population, as even those who had spent the most time with her did not think her worthy of their displays of affection on this special day. A message from anyone of them could have eased the ache inside of her and taken her to unknown heights of sheer joy.

Amanda sighed deeply as she turned her computer off.

She did not want to indulge in conversation with any of them tonight.

Instead, she turned off the light, lay down on her bed, tucking her knees up close to her body.

She wiped the wetness from her stinging eyes and closed them again biding sleep to come find her and carry her away. Mercifully, it did.

The next morning, still with a heavy heart and the feeling of gut wrenching sadness within her, she arose from the right side of the double bed.

She looked at the clock on the dresser and exclaimed, "Damn! It is seven a.m. I'm going to be late for work again."

She threw on her nurse's uniform, quickly brushed her long blonde hair, and then wrapped it in a tight bun on the back of her head. She then grabbed her bag and dashed down the hallway towards the front door.

Damn she hated it when she was running late for work and even more so, when she missed the six fifty-five A.M. bus as the next bus along was always crowded with schoolchildren. The bus ride to work was uneventful. Amanda found a place to sit eight rows back on the right side of the bus behind a pair of amorous teenagers who were cuddling and canoodling.

"Oh, great," she growled to herself, "now I have to watch Romeo and Juliet pecking at one another."

She turned her head to look out the window, trying to ignore them.

It did not work. Amanda shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes instinctively narrowing as she watched the scene played out before her.

She eyed the young, black-haired teen who, in her eyes, was receiving far more than her fair share of amorous attention from the young man and jealousy pierced her heart. She swore under her breath and wished them both to hell. She was bitter and angry and ... hurt. She wanted to lean forward and say, "There is a time and place for that, and it is not on a crowded surfside bus." Instead, she turned away: angry and bitter and hating the world.

She sought relief from her pain by immersing herself in her daily routine. There were beds to make, showers to do and of course, the mountain of in-patient documentation that was necessary these days thanks to the new and improved Government guidelines.

Eight hours flew by.

That evening, lonely and bored, Amanda turned on her computer, intent on surfing the net.

She had developed a special affection for reading the erotic stories on a particular site and loved to read and post in the different topical threads on offer there. It made her feel like she belonged somewhere: a feeling she desperately needed to experience and believe.

She also loved chatting with men anonymously online and used the aid of various dating sites, as the men did not know anything about her and she could be anyone she chose to be. This way, she also had a world of men to choose from- men from every country on earth. She would make herself believe that despite her excess weight, she was an attractive, sexy woman and in turn, make them believe she was something they wanted to possess: utterly desirable and could be all theirs... a goal, not too far from her heart.

Amanda, at thirty-six years of age, was still facially very photogenic and her profile pictures, although always flattering were carefully selected so that she revealed herself only from the neck up. That way, the viewer could only see what Amanda herself believed were her best assets. She believed men would overlook her and choose someone more desirable were they to see her full figured form in all its glory.

Despite her negative and extremely damaging preconceptions about her looks, Amanda's assets were the stuff some men dreamed of: large natural breasts with extremely sensitive nipples, soft skin which when caressed, caused immediate arousal making her lips in both areas swell and blush in unison and her grey-blue eyes darken in depthless passion. Amanda was a highly sensual creature. She was a walking erroneous zone: a woman, who could be irrevocably stimulated to full arousal by the slightest touch.

In many ways, Amanda was a complex creature: possessing an intoxicating concoction of both innocence and fuckabilty to her, sassy and provocative one-minute, and willing to do anything to please a man the next.

Although she did not have a completely submissive personality, she did love to submit to men on the net. This act of submission filled a need in her, which she never realized she had until she met an overseas male online who, from first contact, had referred to himself as a Dom. Through his leadership and masculine prowess, she developed a deep interest in BDSM and, over time, had awarded him a special place in her heart. Amanda had been subservient to him as an online sub for six months and she had come to love every minute of it.

However, he had instructed her on more than one occasion, "not to become too emotionally dependant on him. He would not be there forever."

Amanda, on his instruction had started her own search for his replacement, but he wanted someone local who could fulfill her needs the way he did, only in a hands-on way.

She had written up her dating profile using a local internet-dating site called DATEWISE, taking care to word the *about me* section as if she was placing an advertisement in a local paper. However, in truth, she was nowhere near ready to replace Richard completely yet. She did not actually believe that anyone else could competently fill Richard's shoes: not where her needs were concerned.

Oh, her other online lovers were good and could definitely evoke a state of arousal within her over time, but Richard, to her, was the essence of true masculinity and desirability. Upon seeing the rising notification announcing 'Richard is online,' her body would react. He had taught her to cum on command for him and that had always amazed and thrilled her. She hoped his replacement could do likewise.

She sat down in front of the monitor and waited while her computer booted-up.

Amanda's Personal computer was a dinosaur. The ram was a pittance on the ram available by today's standards. It usually took fifteen minutes for the machine to completely boot and have all its icons in place.

Amanda continued to wait.

She was chaffing at the bit to know if any of the men she knew were online tonight. She was horny and wanted to play.

Those intentions, however, flew right out the window when Amanda discovered that she had an email from DATEWISE waiting for her. A serge of excitement raced through her as she pondered who could have sent the email.

It was from handsome_rake45.

The message read, "Hello. I find your profile intriguing. My name is Brett. I am 40 years old and a practicing Dom. I live in county New South Wales about 50 kilometers south of the Queensland border. I'd love to get to know you better."

Amanda's eyebrows shot up involuntarily as she read the words, and with added playfulness to her speech, she voiced her response, "Would you now?"

Amanda wrote back a quick reply.

"Hi, Brett: This is Cinnamon_7. I would be happy to talk to you when you get some free time."

Amanda felt strangely contented as she disconnected and closed down the programs. She spent the rest of the evening curled on her side, on her bed watching television and wondering about this new man who was about to enter her life.

"Brett," she whispered to herself as she drifted off to dream of flowing rivers and golden sunsets.

The next morning was a Saturday, so her alarm clock, which always tore her from the arms of her overseas Master at quarter to six Monday to Friday, did not ring.

Her weekends were her own and she used them to shop for clothes she could not fit into yet: but swore to herself that one day she would; and also to chat with any available males who were online.

This morning she was waiting for two men - Richard, and Brett.

She waited all day.

At around seven that evening Richard came online and the words, "Are you there, slut" flashed up on the screen.

"Yes, Master," she wrote, feeling the pull of both arousal and excitement entering her body.

"I have a mind to use you today. Two fingers in that pussy NOW slut," she read.

Amanda opened her legs widely, pulling the lace between her legs to one side and slid her fingers into her pussy as commanded. She was only slightly moist but as she massaged the vulnerable area, she found her fingers slid with greater ease over the puffiness of her pussy. She felt her hard small nub harden against the pressure of her fingers and began to squirm repeatedly.

"You're wet for me aren't you, my little whore?"

She read the words as soon as they appeared on the monitor and groaned her response.

"Get your toy and turn on your cam," she read.

Amanda reached into her desk draw and pulled out her pink dildo, switched on the cam and held it in front of the lens swinging it back and forth.

"Ok, pull those big tits out for me so I can see them and lower your cam."

She did as commanded.

"Lower," she read the on-screen message and adjusted the cam angle.

"You wouldn't believe how fucking hard I am right now," her Master wrote to her.

"Get your clips and peg those nipples. I want them to hurt."

Amanda picked up two black, metal stationary clips and applied them to both pink nipples, the sensation making her both wince and moan simultaneously.

She loved nipple clamps.

"Put the toy on your clit and raise the cam slightly. I want to see your face and your tits."

Amanda raised the cam slightly so it was at a higher angle then lowered her head as she watched herself place the vibrator between her legs. Her eyes closed involuntarily at the exquisite sensation. She began to rock against the head, widening her thighs and looked straight into the lens of the cam: straight at Richard.

"Insert that dildo up into your pussy. Shove it up there hard, like I would shove my cock up inside you now were I there with you," her Master wrote.

Amanda slid the weapon up inside of her, as far as it would go. She was so wet now that it slid into her like an ice cube skidding on a flat surface, stopping at the entrance to her cervix.

Amanda involuntarily bucked on the device and moaned.

"Slide it in and out."

"Faster, slut," he added.

She picked up speed, ramming the cock up her cunt as commanded.

"Ride that cock, girl. I want to see those big tits bouncing."

"Tell me what you are feeling, slut?" her Master asked.

"Oh, Master," she wrote in reply, "my pussy is aching so much. I can hardly stand it, sir. May I cum... please Master. Please let your slut cum."

"Cum for me, slut," He wrote, "Cum on my rock hard cock. NOW!"

Amanda read the words and moaned as her pussy convulsed in spasmodic waves.

Her climax came hard and fast, she jerked forward and her head fell backwards in surrender to the overpowering force of his words.

"Ah, I made it...That was good, slut. You did well."

There was a slight pause and then Richard added, "How is your search going?"

"I have had a reply from a man named Brett, Master; however, I know little about him. He is from New South Wales, which is the state under Queensland. He is forty and a practicing Dom," Amanda replied.

"Gather what you can about him and send me the details. I also want to read what he writes in his messages, not out of jealousy you understand but as a safety measure. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master," Amanda, wrote, and with that, he was gone.


(Chapter 2, which I am working on at present will be posted soon. It continues Amanda's growing relationship with Brett and the end of her relationship with Richard.)

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