My Videochat Error Ch. 33 (FTDS)

Thank you, NaughtyOne88, for getting us this far. But NO88 has been quiet for more than 2 years, has not responded to requests to continue and the FTDS rules suggest someone finish the damn story.

I have tried to stay true to NO88's plot to date and fill in some of gaps many readers have pointed out. Not least of which, why is this all happening? Over time, I'll try to answer all of that. This type of story is new for me so comments are welcome. Anonymous rants get deleted. Your constructive feedback will show how readers want the story to evolve. Please give me a follow if you support the new direction and want to see it continue.

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Chapter 33

I fooled myself. No one had to help.

A real man would never do what I did.

I wear panties.

I use makeup and perfume.

My wife enjoys other men.

I clean up the mess.

I have a boyfriend. He cheats on his wife to be with me.

I tell myself I don't like what is happening, but I'm afraid my body is starting to.

I have a girlfriend. We pretend we are married.

She says she loves me, but she pushes me places I don't want to go.

She says she's the only one I can trust. I feel so alone.

Sometimes a part of me feels so submissive. And feminine.

Other times, I feel so humiliated and embarrassed at how I look and what I do.

But even so, what I need to know, what is tearing me up is ....

What did I do? Why is this happening to me?

A week passed and every day when I woke up, I felt more exhausted. Emma was taking her time in the shower, so I jumped into the hall bathroom. I was stepping into the hot water when Emma opened the door and interrupted me.

"I left you something new to wear today. Make sure you put everything on."

Bossy and with a look in her eye that made me unsure, she was gone.

What was that all about? What could she make me wear under my men's clothing that was more humiliating? I had gotten to the point that either Emma or Denise picked out everything I wore. Maybe they talked about what to buy. I was sick of it. And I had begun to wonder whether Emma and Denise were closer than I realized.

Today, my bra and panties were lavender and the stockings white. Slipping them up my legs made my sphincter quiver in shame around its too familiar plug.

There was something else lying on the white sheet. I picked up what looked like boy shorts but only smaller and tighter. I knew shapewear when I saw it and I wanted to scream. Squeezing into something obviously designed to make me look so female was degrading. Finally, after I ended my struggle to fit into the stretchy shorts, I looked in the mirror.

My cage hardly made a bump, giving me a totally flat front. I turned around and looked over my shoulder. The tight spandex molded my butt into two perky globes, as eye-catching as a young girl's tight ass.

"Don't you look sexy!" Emma suppressed a giggle and twirled her finger in the universal sign to spin and show off. As my back turned to her, I felt a slap across my butt.

When Emma and I were first married, a slap on the butt was our way to say "Let's fuck" without using words. This was different. Emma's hand felt like she was taking possession. Her touch lingered while she cupped my ass and toyed with it. No words were needed, her message was obvious. My ass was her's to tap.

I tried to say something, voice a protest, say anything, but Emma handed me my pink drink and shooed me out the door to my car. I sat behind the wheel, not moving, staring at my house, getting more and more angry. I couldn't take this anymore. I was a good person. I did not deserve this and who died and made Emma the boss anyhow?

The car started and I slowly backed down the driveway. I realized how upset I was after I kept getting lost. Part of me was in rebellion. I was supposed to be driving to work but something was telling me not to go there. Getting lost felt like a kind of escape.

Sitting in traffic, my stomach began to knot. Anxiety choked my throat. The pressure I felt inside my head made me afraid I was having a stroke.

Naughty had no right to ask me to do the things she demanded. And I was fed up with Emma. As much as I hated the idea, divorce had to be better than this. I could call a lawyer and see what my rights were. I wasn't helpless, I had options.

As I parked, I dreaded the short walk into the office. Maybe I would be better off if I just fired my car up and left. I wanted to be defiant and brave but apparently that wasn't me. Once again, I was a coward.

All my dithering at home and on the road made me late. Denise helped me doff my "man-clothes." We only had a few seconds before our videochat with Naughty started. Naughty opened the call right on time. Her name appeared on the screen; of course, we never saw her face.

"Good morning. I must say, Shauna, you are making good progress. I know you'll continue to obey Emma's instructions to the letter. Denise, you will make sure this happens, yes?"

Why did I nod my head? Naughty's tone of voice had me feeling totally submissive and we were just starting the call. Denise gave Naughty the answer she wanted to hear.

"And your boyfriend, Jason." Naughty was still focused on me. "I want you to tell him to get you a ring as a token of your cheating relationship. Something people will notice. A little flashy, I think."

"And Shauna, I just realized ... Emma, Denise and you have something in common now. You all will be wearing rings your lovers gave you. Isn't that so funny?"

"Yes, Naughty," I answered and forced a smile. "I will ask Jason to give me a flashy cheater's ring."

"Yes, that will do nicely."

Part of me was horrified but part of me was excited too. Which ring would Jason pick and how humiliating would his choice be? What I was feeling made me cringe.

"Tell me about your new shapewear, Shauna. How does it feel?"

I stammered, something I never do normally. "It's tight and hot. And uncomfortable."

"Good. It' supposed to be. I look forward to your sexy new shape." There was a soft chuckle.

"Things are going to get complicated for each of you. Things are going to change, and each of you needs to do what you are told."

"What's changing? I mean, how will I know," I asked.

Naughty laughed at a joke only she fully understood. "Oh, I think you'll know."

The call ended as suddenly as it began. The sinking feeling in my stomach had become an everyday thing, and it was just made worse. Something was coming. It was going to be bad. Really bad. And I feared I had no chance to get out of the way.

I didn't bother to get dressed and sat down at my desk brooding. Denise pulled me to my feet and began to rub her beautiful breasts against my lacy finery.

"Oh, don't get all worked up, Shaun. You know Naughty, she's always looking to get a rise out of you. Whatever it is, whatever is coming, there's nothing we can do about it now. You'll just have to wait like the rest of us."

With that, Denise left, giving me a wink and a swing of her hips to say goodbye.

I looked out the window, despondent and defeated. I had work to do but pushed it off. The skies were blue with fleecy clouds, but I didn't see them. I found myself staring vacantly into the distance, mulling over where and how I had gone so wrong.

The only thing "new" was the project between Harding Industries and my company, Ajax Analytics. But that was a straightforward "look see" into Harding performance statistics. Most of our work was building data bridges to establish global two-way access between our companies. The project was a proof-of-software-concept for a much bigger contract and Thierry "Terry" Quinn, my mentor and the company's founder, wanted the deal so bad it hurt.

In a way, I met Emma because of Terry. Emma and I were seniors at State when I met her. State offered a five-year program with an internship between Junior and Senior years. I figured a year's work experience would give me an edge after graduation and my counselor helped me win a spot at Ajax. Terry took a shine to me and became a mentor.

I worked my ass off and when it came time to go back to school, Terry offered me a job after graduation. Until then, my course work had been heavy on economics. Terry told me to load up on advanced analytics. He'd show me the secret computer stuff after I was on board. Did I mention that Terry is a software genius?

The second day in Advanced Statistics, I noticed a hot blonde across the room, curvy and athletic. I'm 5'7" and she was just about my height, maybe a little taller. I was sneaking looks when she caught me and smiled. I never wanted a woman so much as I did then. I introduced myself and she told me her name later in bed.

Emma was a business major, who was already accepted into State's powerhouse MBA program. Smart, ambitious, athletic, daring. Emma had come to State on a Lacrosse scholarship and turned that into a stellar academic career. On the field, she had the reputation of being a bare-knuckles competitor who did not take losing lightly.

Neither of us were virgins. I took Emma in my arms and pulled her down to me. She leaned over and brought her lips to mine. I kissed her over and over, and penetrated her mouth with my tongue. My hands moved down to her ass, feeling her soft curves and the taut muscles moving under her skin.

Her breasts were in my hands and her nipples in my mouth. Even as she moaned softly, Emma rubbed her hand across my bulge and began to squeeze my penis rhythmically. We were kissing, we never really stopped kissing. Emma kept running her hands across my chest, across my shoulders.

"Baby, take my cock in your mouth and I'll return the favor."

Emma pushed me back and undid my pants. She pulled them down and then off, I was bare. Emma giggled and her eyes lit up at her new toy, 6 inches plus and thickish. None of the girls who I was with before had complained. Emma leaned forward and began to play with my cock, jacking me off and then taking it into her mouth.

"Give me your seed." Emma went back to her work, leaving me moaning. I licked Emma's clit like a lollypop, making her twist and cry out loudly.

Emma forced herself down on my cock, choking but the feeling was so intense. In return, I slipped two fingers into her channel and began to stroke. Emma began to shake. Her hands forced my face into her wetness. Maybe it was the suddenness of our hooking up, but sex had never felt so hot.

"Oh God.. Oh, Oh!" Her back arched and Emma shrieked. I didn't give her a moment to recover, and I was feeling devilish.

I put her on her back forcefully. Emma looked up at me. "Fuck me hard. Fuck me now."

I took Emma by the hips and felt her shimmy to get close. I used my hand to guide my cock to her pussy and pushed just the head in. Emma threw her head from side to side.

"Please ... don't tease me. Just ram it in. Pound me!"

I slammed my cock into her hot pussy as hard as I could and bottomed out in one stroke. Emma's eyes flew open, her mouth wide in a breathless scream. Her hips ground against mine, matching me stroke for stroke.

"Gaaa...uh, uh.." She moaned uncontrollably as I continued to hammer her into the mattress. Her hands clutched and pulled at the sheets.

"Put your legs around me." Emma did and fucked back harder.

She trembled as she rolled into a second orgasm, and I slowed my pace. Emma frowned as I fucked her with deep and slow stokes, coming out almost to the tip then penetrating her to the roots, driving her right back to the verge of cumming. She thrashed and groaned wildly.

I slipped my hands back under her ass cheeks and pulled her onto me. Emma stared at me as I pulled her up until she was sitting on my lap. Emma drew herself up and impaled herself on my steel hard cock.

Her moans came softly now but non-stop. Emma reached out and stroked my face.

"Kiss me. Tell me you love me."

I did kiss Emma and told her I loved her. Thinking back on it, what I told Emma all the way back then was still true. She was like no other girl I had ever met, let alone fucked. She was beautiful, funny, warm and loved sex. I fell in love at first sight and still loved her. Even now, despite all she had done. Maybe I always would.

I kept pistoning my cock into her pussy for a long time. At one point, when I changed my angle, Emma covered her face, gasped and wriggled on my cock. We looked in each other's eyes. My moans grew uncontrollably louder. Who knows how long we went on like that.

Suddenly, Emma arched and screamed. "I'm cummmming ...!" That put me over the edge, and we exploded together. It went on for hours like that until we were both fucked out.

Emma and I became inseparable. Emma was far more adventurous than I was. We fucked in all our classrooms, the library, and the student union. We even went at it in the field house during a basketball game. And she loved practical jokes.

I wished I had been as popular with her family. Her father, Eric, had been invited to the track and field Olympics development center as a pentathlete. (He didn't make the team.) Her Mom, Diana, was taller and wider through the shoulders than me, which is why she went to NCAA nationals as a swimmer. Next to this crowd, I came up weak and short.

Eric would trap me in a corner and grill me on what the NYSE was going to do next. But Diana was the one who couldn't stand me. There was a constant, quiet flow of slights and insults. More than once, I caught Diana trying to persuade Emma to dump me, that I would never make her happy, no matter how much money I made. I just wasn't worth it.

I can't tell you how proud I was and how much I loved my wife-to-be when she stood up to her mother and told her to stay out of our business. That isn't to say Emma didn't test me in her own way.

Not long after we were married, Emma and I went to a pool party and lots of our friends were there. We were going out to dinner later and I didn't want to sit around in a wet bathing suit waiting. I grabbed my change of clothes and hit the outdoor shower. While I was soaped up and washing my hair, Emma stole my clothes, the towel and anything else I could use as cover. When I wouldn't come out, Emma got the garden hose and sprayed me from overhead with cold water.

When I finally came out, the girls were lined up along the rail, applauding and making exaggerated estimates of my size or lack of it. It was humiliating how they yelled out "scores" and more so when I started to get hard. When we got home, Emma fucked me nearly to death, which did not stop me from staying pissed.

Ajax Analytics became a worldwide name when it released its first-of-its-kind cybersecure data transmission software. Terry was the driving force behind AjaxSafe and the darling of the Wall Street trade magazines and cable financial news shows. Under Terry's tutelage, I had grown into a widely respected data scientist with a reputation for seeing problems in time to avoid them.

Emma aced her MBA program, top of the class, and her career path looked bright. Our sex life was red hot. Emma was making good money. When Mila was born, things began to slow down. Emma decided to be a stay-at-home mom, and I spent more time at work to make up for the loss of her income. Terry was talking about making me a vice president and my star was rising.

With two girls to raise, I began spending 60 plus hours a week at work. Emma and I had barely any private time. There was a night, I was home with Mila. Noel hadn't been born yet. Emma was out with her sister. Mila was asleep in my arms. I would be there for her, always and forever. Mila's college tuition would be in the bank. Money for her wedding reception would be in the savings account. Maybe medicine or law school. Whatever the future held, I would be ready.

Now, sitting in my office, I forced myself to be honest. I got lost in my job, in my ego. I used my responsibilities as a father to shift all my attention to work, Emma and the girls came in second. I allowed our sex life to go cold. After a while, we were down to once a week, then every couple of weeks, then once a month for maybe 15 or 30 minutes.

Did Emma find a man who paid attention to her? Did that man take the time to caress her? Did he listen to her and make her feel special? Did she sleep with him after she gave up on me? Did I drive her away?

My phone chirped with a text from Emma, a reminder that Jacques and his wife were coming to dinner tonight and to spend the evening. There was a list of errands to be run.

With a heavy sigh, I got dressed and started back to work. My mind kept returning to what Naughty had said. Something was about to change; I couldn't imagine what that might be.

I could hear a guy at the far end of the bathroom in his stall, muttering to himself. He kept talking about "bitches," but I couldn't make out what was being said.

I walked by and the door flew open. Long arms grabbed me.

What was Terry doing hiding in a toilet stall?