Back to Vanilla

by Jennifer Maschek

  Now then, my sons, listen to me; do not turn aside from what I say. Keep to a path far from her, do not go near the door of her house, lest you lose your honour to others and your dignity to one who is cruel, lest strangers feast on your wealth and your toil enrich the house of another.

  At the end of your life you will groan, when your flesh and body are spent. You will say, “How I hated discipline! How my heart spurned correction! I would not obey my teachers or turn my ear to my instructors. And I was soon in serious trouble in the assembly of God’s people.”

  Drink water from your own cistern, from your own well. Should your springs overflow in the streets, your streams of water in the public squares? Let them be yours alone, never to be shared with strangers.

  May your fountain be blessed, and may you rejoice in the wife of your youth. A loving doe, a graceful deer – may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be intoxicated with her love.

  Why, my son, be intoxicated with another man’s wife? Why embrace the bosom of a wayward woman? For your ways are in full view of the Lord, and he examines all your paths.

  The evil deeds of the wicked ensnare them; the cords of their sins hold them fast. For lack of discipline they will die, led astray by their own great folly.

  Megan knew the voice. Not at first, no, but as she got close enough to hear the words through the megaphone distortion, she recognised the tone, the slight lisp, the verbal nuances, and she knew for sure whose face she would see extolling the joys and the sanctity of marriage while condemning her and her like to the flaming pits of hell.

  She leant against the railings near Luke_66, watching as he ranted and spat his beliefs at the passing masses. At first she thought she would simply slink past and fade away, but the more she watched, the more she knew she could not.

  She wanted him to see his sexy, sinful Sister_Suzy as she walked past, less than two feet away from him, and certainly closer than any other passer-by had dared to venture, and although his voice barely registered it – a tribute to his consummate professionalism, which she couldn’t help admiring – she knew that he had.

  18. Daddy’s_BiGal

  It’s not uncommon for those who flit through the murkier reaches of the internet to disappear occasionally – when a real-world identity is threatened, for example, or when someone gets a bit too close too soon – and it was three long weeks before Megan ventured back online.

  Nikki was not the first narrow escape she’d had, but it was the one that shook her the most, so the period of abstinence left her with no withdrawal symptoms whatsoever. In fact, over the first fortnight, she was awash only with gratitude and relief.

  It was only towards the end of this short period of being re-rooted once again in the physical world that the jitteriness started to set in; the fidgeting making way for a snappy irascibility that only a fix could cure. And so, as the feeling of danger passed and the need for a high increased, she was slowly tempted back into the dark digital corners. Conflicting voices in her head fought the battle for another week, but in the end, having opted against the clean slate of starting a new profile, there she was, Daddy’s_BiGal, tiptoeing about and taking her first tentative look around PhetX in weeks.

  While she hadn’t been active, her profile had remained live, its own entity, and she returned to 78 new message strings. Most of these were junk, holding no interest whatsoever, and she worked her way methodically through them, deleting most, while setting a few to one side perhaps to consider later.

  SPH37: Okay, okay, I hear what you’re saying about the guy, as a human being, being the most important thing to you. But seriously… you truly think that most women would agree with you? I’ll be honest here, BiGal – it’s not my own experience. Yeah, you can say I’m being oversensitive or paranoid or whatever, but, come on – can you honestly say your eyes would light up if you reached the jiggy-jiggy part of a date and this is what appeared? I’ve photographed it next to a fairly medium-sized banana (yeah, I know, I know… it was the first even vaguely relevant thing I found and purely done for a bit of perspective) so you get the idea. Now, please, be honest here… tempted? Ha! SmallPenisHumiliation x

  NOvanillaME: Hey, great profile! You sound like my kinda BiGal, lol. I’m a lonely dom without a sub. Long story. Complicated, of course, like these things generally are, but we’re still good friends. Take a look at my profile, please, and see what you think. She’s here too, online, so if you don’t fancy me, she might be more your flavour? Lol. Looking forward to your response. Graham X

  FunMan@666: Hey Hun. Long time, no hear. My fault maybe, I know, but I miss you. I really do. Life just keeps rolling on so damned fast that we need to make time for the ones we really care about – Sunni’s death kind of puts things into perspective for me. I just wanted you to know that whatever’s going on with you, baby, and I know something is, I’m here to listen when you’re ready to share. I miss you. I miss us. XxX

  FrocksNotCox: So. It’s been a while since I sent the photos. I hope you liked them and that your sudden silence is merely the chaos of life and not yet another knockback. People on here are so shallow. Funny, I honestly thought you were different… but, yeah. No pressure, but I’d really like to know what you thought of John and his alter-ego Tabitha. She’s been appearing more and more lately. I know she’s not to everyone’s taste, but I’d rather you were just upfront if you’re not interested than not responding at all. You seemed more polite than most. Anyway I hope you have a good life, whatever happens. John

  Sue4Fem: Yes. Yesyesyesyesyes and yes! I so want that too. I love those pics, Megan! Let’s make a plan! XXXXX

  Randy_Waterhouse: Hmmm. Silence? I guess sometimes no response is an answer in itself.

  Kindly_Meister: My dear, I already own both the cat o’ nine tails and the remote-control vibrating eggs. Both have been well, if infrequently, used over the years. What I do not currently own, as I believe only a truly special girl can withstand the intensity I am assured it can bring, is a Hitachi wand. Have you experience of them? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Yours, Kindly_Meister. X

  The last message had been sent just 40 minutes beforehand. Glancing at his profile with what was initially merely a casual interest, Megan saw an elderly man whose photos varied from his profile shot – healthy and outdoorsy in what she assumed was the Scottish countryside – to more the insalubrious: an anal hook, various whips in action, a masked woman of indeterminate age strapped X-shape across an enormous pine bed.

  His profile was brief but witty and eloquent – she instantly liked the cut of his jib, and that was an excellent start. He had a strong online presence stretching back a few years and this, she had learnt, was a reasonable sign of what she glibly called sanity. This was a nebulous concept in the context of cyber-sex, but she had slowly been learning to identify the nut-jobs out there from what they revealed of themselves. Sometimes warning signs would appear in someone who appealed – an unexpected hint of desperate neediness, say, or a turn of phrase that crossed from dirty into crass – and it was tempting to dismiss these as passing shadows to be ignored, signs of a latent tendency to be judgmental, perhaps, but Megan had learnt the hard way that gut instinct was everything.

  She followed the advice on Kindly_Meister’s page and clicked the links to his myriad stories. He had also, she noticed on further research, given and received a lot of positive feedback, both to the work of others and in response to their comments to him. The alarm bells stayed silent.

  And then she began to read.

  She read A Week at the Cabin, the highly detailed tale of a middle-aged man out walking alone through the Highlands, caught up in a fierce storm and forced to take shelter in an unmanned mountain hut. Walking in, he’d been met by a woman much younger than himself – her age, the fact that she had recently had her 18th birthday, was stressed quite strongly in the story, Kindly_Meister later told her, due to the strict rules applied by the erotica website on which he posted.

  There was, his main
character suspected from the first moments, an obvious immediate attraction, but the age gap meant that he wanted to be sure of what she wanted before he took things further. There followed an overly long though well-crafted scene between the hiker and the young and, it turned out, incredibly inexperienced and vaguely gawky teenager, which led to the inevitable – well, it was an erotica site – conclusion. Having bid farewell the next morning, the two parted, never to have contact again.

  It was, Megan thought, interesting as an insight into the man, but the sex scene itself did little for her. But that was fine, she thought. She was not after a speedy online turn-on. She could find that anywhere. What she needed was someone with more depth, a man who knew more than she did and would be capable of leading her, and in Kindly_Meister she was beginning to think she saw precisely that. He appeared to be a man who could take command when necessary. She also liked the moral code of the story, and there was an appealing honesty shining through his words.

  She read A Moment in Time, then skimmed through several other tales, all eloquently written but too wordy, perhaps, and with fairly interchangeable plots: man meets woman (generally much younger, but not always), generally in unusual settings – hitchhiking, picking his son up after a term as an activity leader at a remotely placed activity camp for families, whatever; man ends up walking with woman to some even remoter place; and man gently nudges woman, via a slight angsty exchange led by her, towards the conclusion that guilt is the only true sin and that his cock will cure all. And it usually did.

  It was with Decently Indecent Proposal, though the name had made her cringe, that he won her completely. The story showed, she believed, a man who understood not only women, but her. Megan lay on her bed one Sunday morning, cup of tea getting cold by her side, and soaked up the words in front of her. It was the story of a 54-year-old-American woman, married to a man 15 years her senior, who had met, and connected with, a guy of similar age to herself online.

  There it was. That spark, the connection between her and Mike had been immediately obvious to Lisa, but this, this taking the virtual and making it real, this was something totally different, and not something she felt comfortable doing without obtaining approval.

  How she managed to say the words she needed to say to Donald she didn’t know, but somehow she found the courage. Looking back, she guessed she knew that, as a man who had always loved her above all and put his own needs before her own, he would put that macho possession bullshit to one side and understand. At the end of the day, Donald was her true master, and in giving his permission to this, he had shown it. He had seen the right thing and done it – could there be any greater testament to the man?

  After dinner, during that first meeting, a time when he had sussed out the nature of the man who would take his place for the evening, the three had walked together to the hotel lift, Lisa and Donald holding hands tightly, Mike to the right of them both. They had gone up to the fourth floor and headed to room 430. The wrist and ankle restraints were already attached to the bed, and Mike stood to one side in the room he had booked and watched as Lisa kissed the older man and slowly stripped, folding her clothes neatly across the back of a nearby chair. Donald noticed her hands shake slightly and leant over to grab one. Wearing just a small pair of black lace panties, she pulled herself into his arms and began to sob a little against his chest, before he pulled her back to look at him.

  “It’s okay, honey, it’s all okay. I’m good with this I promise you, and if you need me, you know where I am. But, I don’t think you will. I trust this guy,” and he smiled over at Mike.

  Taking off the last of her underwear, Lisa lay face down on the bed as they’d planned, while Donald put on her blindfold and restraints. He kissed her, stroked her tear-stained cheek with the back of his hand and whispered something tenderly in her left ear before walking down to the bar, where he planned to have two doubles before going to the first floor, to his own room, his and Lisa’s room, closing the door, and retiring for the night.

  When she crawled back into their bed, very early the next morning, he pulled her tiny body to the front of his own, her facing away from him, his warm arms wrapped close around her. A small vivid bruise was already appearing on her upper right arm and there were light stripe marks on her upper back. All that mattered was that she had come back. He clung on firmly until they both fell asleep in silence.

  Megan flicked to the tab where her PhetX messages lay open and typed a reply to Kindly_Meister, straight from the heart.

  19. Kindly_Meister

  My dear BiGal,

  If you don’t mind, I’ll answer your questions in order, and maybe add a few of my own along the way.

  Yes, I suppose you could say – and here I’ll combine the answers to a few of your questions – I’ve had things published for most of my adult life, although perhaps not in the way that you think. I was, until recently, a journalist, and do indeed still get the odd piece published for cash, but I’m more or less retired and have been for a few years now. I’ll be blunt, as I generally am, and say I like the look of you, and am happy to answer any queries that’ll help you get a feel for who I am.

  As to my characters… yes, I’d say there’s a touch of me in all of the males. The Cabin happened almost exactly as I wrote it, although the girl was a wee bit older, and the Moment in Time had hints of me too.

  The American story? It was written a few years ago for a dear, dear friend. A lovely woman I met online, but never did meet. It was exactly how I knew she wanted it to be, and I’m glad it touches you too. It’s something I’d be very keen to explore myself. I’ve met a few women with permission from their men along the way, but not as open and caring as the husband in that tale. He was, as you say, an example of real trust and unconditional love.

  I do, indeed, consider myself a dom. I’ve helped a lot of women through tough decisions along the way, and I hope made their lives richer for it. And yes, I guess you could say that I always have one eye open.

  As I have said already, I would like us to be friends, but all at your pace.

  I must admit, I’m highly excited by the notion of your polyamorous relationship. I’ve known it work a few times, but I’ve known its destructive powers too. Has it been tested yet? Do you think he’s a man cut from Donald’s cloth? Could he walk you to my hotel door, knowing I was planning to fuck your beautiful wee arse all night after whipping it red raw, and stroll casually away wishing you a pleasant night? And, more importantly, could he look you in the eye the next day and call you his darling slut… and would you allow him to do that? Would it change the nature of your love?

  Let me know, Daddy’s_BiGal. I’m very interested in your thoughts.

  Love, Daddy Xxxx

  Looking through his sent folder the next day, this email rang no bells whatsoever. As he stared at the screen, Alasdair was impressed, more than anything, by the quality of his punctuation in a message he had clearly written in so drunk a state, and yet still his writing remained lucid and articulate, if a little coarser than he might have chosen with less Dalwhinnie flowing through his veins

  Megan, conversely, couldn’t have been more turned on.

  Dear Daddy, Oh! You know me so well! Yes, that’s my greatest desire but also my greatest fear. I mean, I want that. I want that connection and that trust, that supreme trust and honesty, that would enable us to play together with someone else, and I’m sure he does too… I just need to ask him. But… but… we haven’t tested it yet. I mean, I want to, but I guess we haven’t found the right guy.

  I’ll be honest here. I’ve made the odd online mistake, trusted people when I should’ve listened to my inner voice, and I’m terrified of doing the same again. Forgive me if I’m a bit hesitant sometimes. Truthfully? It’s just blind fear :-).

  But to the point: do you really think that could work? I feel it could, but it’s so far from my real world, from convention, that I have no clue.

  God, I hope so.

  Your little BiGal
xxx

  This was turning, Alasdair thought, in a delectable direction, showing him two things: one, that his initial instincts were, as usual, just about spot on; and two, that he ought to send more messages after a night on the pish. He was most definitely guilty of over self-censorship on occasion.

  Although he had once before asked for – and been most graciously granted – online permission to play with the female half of a polyamorous couple, that had eventually come to nothing. The woman had pulled out, and simply vanished from the internet, something that, in reality, tended to happen more often than not with his virtual conquests.

  One woman, in fact, had got as far as arranging an overnight date with him in Newcastle, then failed to show, leaving him to souse his loneliness that evening in a Tyneside hotel bar. He didn’t bear grudges, though. And then there was Tamsin, dear sweet little cunty-girl, feasibly the sweetest prize of all, who had backed out of their first meeting before rescheduling almost immediately. He had loved her all the more for her courage in not running away, and thinking of her brought a smile to his lips and, he suspected, always would.

  But this? What was unfurling here was a new and exciting prospect and he stood up and paced the room restlessly a little before deciding to wait and take a stroll to calm his ardour before responding.

  My dear slutty BiGal,

  Thank you so much for your candour. If you are suggesting, as I believe is the case, that I may be the “right guy” to join you and your husband, let me assure you right now that I would be honoured to help you out on your quest. Again, I remind you that anything we do is done at your own pace. I am going nowhere. Yes, the online world can be a minefield, my dear, and those of us who travel its wavering paths all have similar tales to tell. I am also always available to address any concerns that you or your master may have.

  Has he a presence on here and have you spoken to him about me? Would now be an opportune moment for me to introduce myself?