Tested by Her Web Master (Web Master #2)

by Normandie Alleman

  Quentin had just spoiled me before with so much attention. Now that he didn’t have as much time for me, I felt like I was going through withdrawal.

  Had he created a monster? An attention-whore who couldn’t exist without his constant sexual instruction? I was pitiful. I needed to grow up and deal with the reality. Our relationship was just entering a new phase, that’s all.

  But I couldn’t shake the sense of unease that crept into the edges of my consciousness.

  I went back and read some of his old emails and walked myself through one of his bedtime tasks designed for me to come at the end. I imagined his voice in my ear growling, “Do you have a cock in?” The tone of voice always sent my juices flowing.

  “No, Sir,” I pictured myself answering. “I’m sorry, Sir.” I was already so aroused knowing this would lead to a delicious punishment of some sort.

  “Go get one. Stuff that cunt of yours and fuck that pussy hard. Abuse it.”

  I decided I needed to make an audio recording of one of our sessions for nights like this.

  Reading the instructions he’d given me, he directed me to a dreamy, floaty, divine orgasm, and just like that I belonged to him once again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The next week dragged on, and I kept hoping Quentin would send me a task, but before he finished his job and was able to conduct a session with me, I received this task from my new Dom, BA.

  To my surprise, instead of being annoyed, I decided to embrace the experience. Perhaps it was childish of me, but I felt so neglected by Quentin that I relished the idea of another man dominating me the way he should be. It should be Quentin sending me this task, but since he was too busy, I would allow someone else to meet some of my needs. And it was all with MC’s blessing so I had nothing to feel guilty about.

  I’d already sent BA a list of the toys and household items I had on hand that Quentin and I used for our sessions. That helped him design tasks for me. Here’s the next one he sent me.

  SLUT SCAVENGER HUNT

  You will get all dressed up. Bind your ankles by taping a figure eight around them. Put on your belt made from elastics and attach your wristbands to it with more elastics. Wear another circle of elastics around your sweet ass. Once you are all dressed as instructed, you will begin your pleasure-hunt adventure.

  Now that you are nicely bound, ankles taped and wrists secured in the bands, the hunt will begin. Start by taking your glass dildo into the kitchen and placing it in the freezer. From the kitchen you will make your way to the closest hairbrush. Spread your legs and massage that clit up and down thirty times with the bristles. Turn the brush over and spank that cunt twenty times. Now take the handle and drive it deep into your wet hole for thirty strokes.

  Then snap each of your bottom cheeks with the circle of elastics.

  Go back to the kitchen, where you’ll take two forks and drive them deep into your nipples, counting down from sixty. You can now fuck that hole with any item you choose from the kitchen with forty deep, hard strokes. Two stings on each cheek.

  Now off to the bathroom where you will watch that filthy girl get fucked in the mirror. You will pinch, roll and jerk off that clit for one minute and then select an item from the washroom to fuck that wet cunt with for fifty strokes. Three stings on each cheek.

  From the bathroom, you will parade that pretty striped ass to the couch and stand with the backs of your legs against the arm at the end of the couch, and fall backward onto it. You will get those legs spread and fuck that hole with five strokes with your thumbs and each one of your fingers. You will clean up the mess on each finger each time with your hungry, cock-sucking mouth. Four stings on each cheek with the elastic band.

  Head back to the bedroom where you will spread your wooden ABC blocks on top of the bed. Get out your vibe, kneel on the floor and lay those luscious breasts down on the blocks while you take both hands and fuck that cunt with your vibrator. Fuck yourself good and hard for a solid three minutes. I want those juices trickling down your thighs.

  Now it’s time to make that cunt come. Proceed to the kitchen and get your frozen cock out. Bury that cock deep inside you and hold it in with two hands while you work your way back to your bed to lie down and pump that hole until you come like a greedy girl.

  Be a delicious bondage slut and send me details after you play.

  BA

  Damn, he was almost as good as MC already with his dominant manner and his ingenuity. I figured Quentin helped him with task development, but still, I’m sure BA conjured some of it. It felt sexy to be acting out another man’s fantasies. There was a forbidden aspect to it that made it even hotter.

  BA told me that he’d already had a few lessons with MC about toy construction using items around the house.

  I carried out his instructions—being bound was so sexy. I loved that. I had to make my way from the kitchen to my bathroom to get my hairbrush, and it was difficult to walk with my ankles taped. I almost had to use my toes as fingers to make it work.

  Playing with myself using my hairbrush made me feel terribly naughty, but I loved the sensation of the bristles rubbing against my clit, and fucking myself with it. The bristles made for an exquisite example of the combination of pleasure and pain that MC was always talking about.

  I hobbled back to the kitchen. I liked fucking myself with the melon baller, but the fork part wasn’t fun. I preferred when I got to dig the forks in and twist them. Driving them into my skin for a full minute hurt like hell!

  When I got to the bathroom and I was supposed to find something to fuck myself with, I used my vibe because it was right there. Maybe not as exotic as BA was hoping for, but I knew it would do the job well.

  Falling backward onto the couch felt great. It reminded me of the carefree way kids will do things like jump on beds and just throw themselves around. That was a nice change of pace considering all the stress I’d been experiencing. Plus, it made me wet when he told me to spread my legs.

  My bed is so big that I couldn’t kneel by it and put my breasts on the blocks. I had to stand instead, and when I got the cold cock out of the freezer and slipped it inside me, it felt amazing. The cold definitely amped up the tension in my pussy, and I used my fingers to make myself come.

  Afterward, I collapsed and accidentally fell asleep on my bed. When I woke up an hour later, I wrote up a quick report and sent it to him. BA sent me this response.

  Sophie,

  You are a delicious plaything and certainly free to play this again at your leisure. I wish I could watch you go through the stages so I could bark orders at you and growl at you as you go through the various steps.

  In the future, I will design a bondage session where I do instruct you while you move around your home. It will be done over the phone so you can take me with you. Stay a puddled, hungry mess.

  BA

  With a sigh, I thought for the first time that maybe this arrangement with BA could work. After all, it was only temporary…

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “This meal is divine. Such a nice restaurant.” I took in the cozy yet elegant ambiance of the room. I’d been looking forward to seeing Quentin for weeks. He was finally back in Seattle and flew me up for the weekend. My first night there, he spoiled me with a romantic dinner at a five-star restaurant.

  “Only the best for my girl.” Quentin winked at me, and I could feel my panties growing wet. The man was in his element in a candlelight-drenched room with white table cloths and tuxedoed waiters. It occurred to me that my parents would love him. Quentin carried himself in a way that could only be described as debonair, but he was just as comfortable writing music or chopping wood at his cabin. A Renaissance man, he’d go from composing a cinematic score to wielding a whip in the great tradition of the Marquis de Sade in a matter of minutes.

  “So how are things going with BA?” Quentin asked, a little too casually.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “That’s good.” He took a sip of wine like it was no big
thing—him asking me about the other man with whom I was engaging in sexual activities.

  I looked around to make certain no one overheard me before whispering, “But it’s awkward. I don’t know how much to, you know, give of myself.”

  Quentin’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

  “I mean, part of me feels like I need to go ‘all in’ for him to get the full experience, but it’s difficult to make that work with my feelings for you. It would be almost impossible for me to give myself to someone else when I belong to you.”

  He frowned. “I can see that.”

  His tight-lipped response was maddening. I wanted to lean across the table, take him by the shoulders and shake him silly. “So what am I supposed to do? What is it that you want me to do?”

  “I would like for you to act as his submissive in all that entails.”

  “So, just give myself over completely to him? You don’t have a problem with that?”

  “That’s what I requested of you. I don’t see what good it is doing anyone if you don’t. A halfhearted submission doesn’t sound like genuine submission. Have you been holding out on him?”

  His words stung. I kept waiting for Quentin to get jealous, to pull me back from the edge from whatever precipice BA and I hovered above. But instead, it seemed clear his intention was to push us both over the side. He didn’t mind us tumbling over into the abyss together. How could he be so confident that he wouldn’t lose me? My stomach roiled. Or did he simply not care?

  “Not holding out exactly, but it’s been difficult for me to put you and our relationship out of my mind.”

  He nodded, urging me to continue.

  “It feels like if I put you out of my mind completely, it would be cheating on you, and I don’t want to do that.”

  “I see. Well, just stop thinking. When it comes to BA and your online D/s relationship with him—stop thinking. Know that I’ve given you my permission to submit to him. In fact, I’ve encouraged it. It was my idea, so in many ways you’re doing it for me. Tell yourself by giving in to the sensations, by letting him dominate you—you are pleasing me. Can you do that?”

  “Yes,” I hedged.

  “Good. Would you like some dessert or are you ready for me to get the check?”

  Just like that he was finished with the conversation. I wasn’t done with the matter yet, but I couldn’t think what else to say at that point. Quentin saw the issue as more black and white than I did, and while I thought he was being naive about the possible fallout, he was steadfast in his opinion.

  We finished our meal, and he whisked me back to his cabin in the woods. I loved it there. I recalled the memory of the first time he’d taken me there, when he’d still been such a mystery to me. There had been an air of trepidation as he showed me all the “toys” he’d built for me there.

  He assembled a special stockade he liked to lock me in, and that’s exactly what he did after we got home.

  As I lay there, legs spread wide for him, panting with desire, I remembered why I agreed to the plethora of embarrassing, humiliating predicaments he put me in—because he knew how to take me to heights of bliss I’d never experienced before. As strange as it was, I could trust him to put my needs and my happiness at the top of his priority list, and I knew he would always do right by me.

  “I’ve got something new for us to play with tonight. A gift actually.” He stood over me, shirtless, and I tried to focus on his words rather than the ripples of his torso.

  Lying on my back, wrists and ankles bound with my legs in the air, it felt incredibly naughty to be receiving a present in such a vulnerable and aroused state. “What is it?”

  “I’ll go get it.” He left the room for a minute. When he returned he carried what looked like a jeweler’s box. It was long and skinny—the kind used to house necklaces.

  A white bow topped the package, and he held it under my nose for me to inspect.

  An awkward laugh bubbled up from my throat. “I can’t really open it.”

  His intense, dark eyes pierced mine. “Use your teeth.”

  He brought the gift so close to my lips it was almost touching, and I bobbed my head forward, taking a piece of the white grosgrain ribbon between my teeth. I yanked my head back, loosening the wrapping.

  “Good girl,” he said with a wink. “I’ll get the rest of it for you.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He ripped the paper off, tossing it to the floor. Then he opened the sapphire-blue velvet case that had been underneath.

  A bright, dark-silver strand of pearls gleamed up from the cream-colored satin they nested against.

  “Pearls?”

  He smirked. “I knew you’d already have some white ones.”

  I nodded. “I do. But these are beautiful, Quentin. What are they, black pearls or some other kind?”

  “You’re right. They’re the black ones. But it’s not as much what they are as what I’m going to do to you with them.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “What you’re going to do to me with them?” I laughed nervously.

  He chuckled. “Oh yes. Close your eyes, pet.”

  I did as he asked, anticipating his next move, but knowing the best thing was to surrender to him and his whims.

  The pearls slipped over my hot skin, and I felt the cool, pleasing weight of them drag over my breasts. I sighed a deep sigh, falling into the sort of trance-like state he put me in when he tied me up. But this time instead of teasing me with the rope, perhaps it would be pearls he’d rake over me. The thought excited me and I let out a slight moan.

  “You like them?” He seemed pleased that his gift had hit the mark.

  “Yes, sir,” I purred.

  “Good. I expect them to enhance your pleasure tonight.”

  His mouth covered my breast and he toyed with the hard point of my nipple with his teeth. Biting, then comforting with his wet, careful tongue. Pain, then pleasure. That was his mantra and his favorite place for it to play out was on my body.

  He stimulated my breasts, one at a time. His ministrations captured my attention, until nothing existed in my entire universe except what he did to me. He transferred his attention from my breasts to the place between my legs. He dipped one finger, then another, inside me, stirring my nectar.

  My legs were already confined in the stirrup-like contraption, held open so that I was as open and vulnerable to him as possible. His mouth settled over my sex, licking, sucking all my most intimate parts. Then I felt the insertion of the pearls. The forbidden flavor of his actions only served to increase my arousal.

  “Quentin?”

  “You need that cunt hole filled, don’t you, pet?” His voice rasped with passion and my eyes squeezed shut.

  “I do,” I whispered, nodding.

  “I wanted to see it filled with something as precious as you are.”

  He pushed the beads up inside me then pulled them out. It was an unusual sensation, different than anything I’d experienced before, but I liked it.

  “That feels good, Sir.”

  Rather than answer me with words, he covered my pussy with his mouth. Shoving the pearls in and out, he licked and sucked me, ratcheting up the tension until he sent me over the edge.

  I flew to outer planets and back as my orgasm overtook me and I trembled like the most fragile leaf clinging to its limb.

  I barely had a chance to come down from my cloud before he moved to my head.

  Unzipping his trousers, he let them fall to the floor. His erect cock bobbed in front of me and I parted my lips for him to pass between them. He tasted amazing. I loved the part where he gave me his cock to ready. With a fresh spark of desire, I sucked him until he was so hard he strained against the back of my throat.

  When he was pleased with my efforts, he withdrew his cock, opened a nearby drawer, and pulled out some lube.

  This got my attention because I was already as wet as a Slip ‘N Slide. If he’d been planning to fuck my ass, he would have
inserted a butt plug earlier. A tinge of trepidation attached itself to my curiosity.

  First he coated his index finger with lube and said, “Relax,” as he pushed inside the opening to my butt hole with his finger.

  I scrambled, both psychologically and physically, to adjust to this new intrusion. The ring of muscles around my anus cried out and tried to accommodate the invasion, however small.

  Was he going to try to fuck my ass? If he was, I wish he’d given me a bit more warning. My butt was so tiny it always hurt when he did that, at least at first.

  “Relax,” he repeated. “You know it’s always easier if you do.”

  Easier said than done. Every time my booty encountered an unrecognized object trying to get up in there, it rebelled. Muscles tensed tight and hard. It took all sorts of mind-over-matter tricks for me to convince my body to ease up a little and “let’s see what happens.”

  My body usually responded, “Hell no.”

  I took some deep breaths and started to feel better as his finger moved gently in and out, warming up that backdoor entrance.

  “I’m not going to fuck your ass, if that helps any.”

  “You’re not?” Shocker. What other reason could he have for spending so much time playing with my anus, unless it was to train it to accept such intrusions better?

  “No. Relax and you’ll see. I can promise you that it will intensify your orgasm significantly when I fuck that delicious little pussy of yours.”

  Oh. I reminded myself to trust him.

  I heard him squirt more lube and I couldn’t help but crane my neck to try to see what he was doing down there.

  “If you’re going to open your eyes, keep them locked on me. You got that?” he growled and slapped my ass.

  I winced. “Yes, Sir.” And he slapped my other cheek.

  Slowly, he began to thread the necklace into my bottom, his finger helping it along the way with every individual bead. The round, pebble-like shape of the individual pearls provided a constant opportunity to stimulate all the supremely sensitive nerve endings. I writhed against the chair where he’d bound me, stretching against my bonds—not in an attempt to escape, but rather in an effort to wring every last divine sensation from the experience.