She quickly put it back in the drawer and shoved it closed, accidentally making a banging noise. She hushed the errant drawer, making herself blush. The walls of the small three-bedroom apartment were paper thin, and she hoped neither of her roommates recognised the sound.
Ugh, what am I thinking? This is ridiculous.
She slid the drawer open again and reached inside. Holding the toy up in front of her, she sniffed it to see if it had been washed. It had. Wondering what difference it made, she admonished herself. So I used it. Big deal. It’s not as if it’s earth-shattering news. Get a grip!
Biting her lip, she reached for a tissue to clean off the lipstick. Before she noticed what she was doing, she found her fist wrapped around the inert toy, separated only by a layer of Kleenex, cleaning it off in a twisting, pseudo-jacking off motion. Memories of last night’s festivities turned up the corners of her mouth. She brought the toy up in front of her face to examine it more closely. It was all clean and ready for ‘next time’ so she put it away again, this time quietly.
Hopping up from the bed, Elaine grabbed her towelling robe from a corner chair and drew it around herself. It was nice and thick so she didn’t bother with a bra. After grabbing a fresh towel from the hall closet, she went to take a shower but the bathroom was occupied. She had to face her roommates sooner or later and decided to make herself a coffee in the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she rounded the corner and found Chelsea groaning and tidying up some spilt sugar. “Can I help?” Elaine asked.
“God. Sorry Elaine. I’m all thumbs. We had a big night last night and I feel like shit,” Chelsea said.
“Here, let me do it.”
“Thanks, Elaine. You’re an angel.”
“It’s okay,” she said, enjoying the praise. “I don’t mind.” Things were already going better than she’d hoped. She feared finger pointing and sniggering, but at least she and Chelsea were adults. Either that or it wasn’t Chelsea who kissed her vibrator. Blushing and turning her back on her roommate and filling the kettle with water, Elaine asked, “Um, were you making a coffee? If you’d like one, I’ll make it.”
“Could you make one for Kendra too?” Chelsea pleaded, slumping in the kitchen chair.
“Sure, just relax. I don’t know how you guys can go out every weekend and get smashed like you do.”
“We’re young. We’re supposed to, and besides, it’s where the guys are.”
Elaine could hardly argue with that. It was true for probably eighty percent of the student body. When she brought the milk and sugar to the table, Chelsea was leaning on her elbows, holding her head in her hands. Her robe hung open almost to her navel, exposing the smooth olive skin of her chest and the inner swell of each breast. After trailing her eyes down to Chelsea’s flat tummy, Elaine realised what she was doing.
“Um, there you go,” she stuttered, passing Chelsea’s coffee to her and staring at the sugar bowl. “So um, did you meet any nice ones last night?”
“Guys? Naaa. Just the usual bunch of dropkicks. I’m sore all over though. We danced all night.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Yeah. I guess. Just once I’d like to meet someone who wasn’t a complete wimp. Most of the guys we meet are like lapdogs, following us around, hoping for a taste. Either that or they’re overbearing oafs. It’d be nice to meet someone who knew what I liked.”
“What are you going on about?” asked Kendra, entering with a towel wrapped around her body and another around her head. “Is that mine?” she asked, sitting down and reaching for the spare cup. Elaine nodded.
“I was just saying most of the guys we meet are just boys. I’d like to meet a man. A real man,” repeated Chelsea.
“What? Someone old and wrinkly?” Kendra asked, teasing.
“Nooo! God. I just mean someone who knows how to treat a lady.”
“Oh, so you’re a lady now, are you? You could have fooled me. You didn’t look like much of a lady when I poured you into that taxi last night.”
“Oh, stop it. You weren’t much better. And anyway, you know what I mean.”
Kendra shook her head with a smile and brought her coffee to her lips. “Well, my idea of a ‘real man’ is someone cute, muscly, can cry in movies and brings me flowers every time he picks me up. Haven’t found him yet, though.” She turned her gaze to Elaine. “What about you, Elaine? What kind of man would you like to meet?”
“Hmmm… I’d like to meet someone who impresses me. Someone I can look up to and learn from. Someone I can respect. Someone with substance.”
“Someone who isn’t plastic?”
Blushing five shades of red, Elaine mumbled, “Um, yeah. Not plastic. Yeah...” She figured it was safe to assume Kendra had kissed her vibrator and was now teasing her about the use of it. Elaine’s nipples started getting hard and she was mortified, pulling her robe closer around herself.
“I think I’m gonna spew,” Chelsea gasped, standing and running to the bathroom, her hand covering her mouth.
Once she’d left the room, Kendra sipped at her coffee, eying Elaine over the edge of a cup with a pussycat on it. “She’s a lightweight,” she said finally.
“What do you mean?”
“Lightweight! You know.”
“You mean like a lush?”
“Yeah, like a lush, Miss Ohio, 1958. Jeez, Elaine. You gotta get out more.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t like the crush and the drinking. The music’s okay, I guess.”
“And some of the men are just dreamy.”
“Chelsea doesn’t seem to think so.”
“Chelsea wouldn’t know a real man if he bit her on the ass.”
“Mmmmm.” Elaine giggled.
“Mmmmm.” Kendra joined her, winking. When the pleasant moment had passed, Kendra leaned into Elaine and whispered, “I hope you didn’t mind that I put you in bed and tidied up a bit last night. I thought it might be embarrassing to wake up like that.”
Elaine didn’t know why she took the bait, but she did. “Like what?”
“Like, sprawled over your bed, all the lights on, stark naked with a vibrator in your hand.”
“Oh.” The image made her speechless, and wet.
“Just wait till I get the pictures developed!” Elaine’s eyes went wide, and she was about to squeal. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Kendra insisted. “Jeez Elaine!”
“You’re mean,” Elaine whispered, feeling like she was blushing to the roots of her hair.
“Oh, c’mon. I’m just having some fun with you. You know you like it.”
“I so do not. This isn’t fun at all. It’s embarrassing. And I’d rather not be um, reminded of this… episode either. I’d like to think I have some privacy here, at least in my room! And I can assure you I don’t like being made fun of, at all.” Elaine was pleased with her response. She rarely got a word in once Kendra started talking.
“Right. Then tell me the truth. Are your nipples hard?”
“What?” Elaine gasped incredulously, pulling her robe even more tightly around her body.
“Go on. Tell me!”
Just then the toilet flushed and Chelsea stumbled out into the kitchen. “I wouldn’t go in there for a while if I were you,” she said, falling into the chair in front of her cold coffee.
“Um, it’s okay,” Elaine said, quickly snatching up her towel and fleeing into the bathroom. She didn’t mind what the air in there smelled like. She was just glad she didn’t have to answer Kendra’s question.
********************************************
Chelsea had already gone out the door and Kendra was holding it open. “We shouldn’t be home till after three A.M., so there’s plenty of playtime,” she teased, winking at Elaine in the kitchen doorway.
“I might invite the football team over,” Elaine replied, poking out her tongue.
“A football team would put you in a coma! I’d stick to vibrators. And if I catch you like I did last night, there will be pictures.”
With an open mouth, Elaine blushed mightily as the front door closed behind Kendra. It wasn’t so much being unable to adequately defend herself that made her embarrassed. It was also things like the wet kiss Kendra blew to her as she pulled the door closed. And the image of Elaine’s vibrator in Kendra’s hand as she kissed it, knowing where it had been. That had haunted her all day. She was just glad she hadn’t woken up when Kendra put her to bed. That would have been humiliating. She resolved to pretend she was asleep if it ever happened again. Kendra wouldn’t really take pictures, would she? Elaine wondered. I’d die if she did. I MUST stay in control of myself when I cum.
Twenty minutes later Elaine was writhing on her bed, twisting a turgid nipple between her forefinger and thumb. Bored with the fingers of her other hand sliding in and out of her clasping pussy, she was mindlessly fumbling for the drawer, desperate for her vibrator. Her slippery fingers finally grasped the handle and pulled it open, blindly searching for and finding her vibe. Already having crab-walked halfway up the bed in her ecstasy, her head hung back over the pillow that had bunched up under her shoulder blades. Immediately turning it on ‘high’, she pressed it against her throbbing, swollen clit and hit the roof.
Clenching her teeth to keep herself from screaming, she wished she had put the pillow in her mouth. Instead she went over the edge in an explosive climax. Her eyes bulged as she strained to keep them open, willing herself to stay conscious. Shudders wracked her body, but if she strained, she could minimise them. Unfortunately when she did so, the pleasure seemed to be drawn out almost endlessly, giving her time to change her attack.
She slid the vibrator into her hot cunt. Yes, it was a ‘hot cunt’ now. A writhing, twisting miasma of countless nerve endings, all firing in pleasure and rolling out across her abdomen, buttocks and down her legs making them shake. Into her imagination speared the image of Kendra, topless and holding a camera, flashes going off in her mind.
Over the top she went again, this time enough to make her oval her lips, a whispered low groan escaping before she heard herself and clenched her teeth again. Willing her eyes open, she looked past her tortured nipple, distended beyond belief between her fingers, and down to her flailing wrist, driving the white toy incessantly in and out of her palpitating pussy.
I have to stop, she thought forlornly. This is how it happened. I just didn’t stop. Now I remember. I just didn’t want to stop. Gradually her hand slowed. I can do this. I can control myself. Tearing her fingers from her throbbing nipple, she reached down to turn off the cause of her blissful state. She sighed with pleasure and relief, feeling as though she’d be able to keep herself from being found like Kendra had, ever again.
“Oh God! Kendra!” Elaine’s eyes shot open, reality and her imagination blending for just a moment, but long enough to allow her to think Kendra may have actually been in the doorway, taking pictures of her. She slumped back onto the bed as her fears were allayed. She blushed and shook her head. Why does the idea of being caught, even photographed, turn me on? God, almost everything turns me on. What did that guy on the net say? I was ‘ripe’. Yeah, that’s it. I’m ripe, she thought, giggling as she withdrew the vibrator and heaved herself upright. Heading for the bathroom, she realised she liked being daring now. Being nude made her nipples stand up. Sympathetically she gently rubbed the one she’d been pinching.
Deciding on a whim to sit at her computer naked, Elaine folded a towel and placed it under her ass before booting it up, connecting to the net, and heading for her favourite chat room. She hadn’t been there five minutes before someone called MasterServant messaged her.
“Good evening to you.”
“Hello,” Elaine typed back, thinking this man at least had manners.
“I’ve noticed you here before.”
“The nickname?” Elaine glanced an inch to the left where her nickname, Nastyangel, sat proudly.
“Yes. It’s intriguing.”
“I’m really nothing like my nickname,” Elaine typed, adding a smiley face with its tongue sticking out on the end. She hoped he thought she was being subtle and flirty. For some reason this man made her heart flutter.
“I know,” he typed back, halting her in her tracks.
“What do you mean?” Elaine asked, suddenly wondering if this man was more dangerous than she had previously assessed.
“Just that in general, people on the net either describe themselves honestly, or they make up a persona. Something of a series of wish lists, rather than reality. I’m guessing you are of the second variety.”
Elaine gulped. Was her profile so obvious? She clicked on it and read it quickly. It looked okay, maybe a little exaggerated. Nothing like her really, but she enjoyed being Nastyangel and she felt like she was her, in a strange way. So she felt justified when she went on the attack. “Are you questioning my honesty?”
“I am not judging you on that basis. It’s something people do. It’s a free country, but I like to know if the person I am talking to is a player or a real person. Don’t get me wrong, you are allowed to be a player. I’d just like to know. In other words, if you really are blonde, 22, 115 lbs, a 36 C, fun loving, a bit ditzy, and you love all kinds of sex, then I’d like you to tell me it’s true.”
By the time she’d finished reading the long message, Elaine’s heart was beating hard. She couldn’t make her hands type. Almost a minute passed by as she read his message over and over. Suddenly another message flashed up on the screen.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out, I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
Then he disappeared from her screen, just as she was typing to him, asking him to stay. Elaine’s jaw dropped. How could he so easily see right through me? I should have told him to fuck off. She found the conversation unsettling and didn’t feel like chatting any more. After turning off the machine, she laid back in her bed, tossing over in her mind whether or not to masturbate. She didn’t feel like that either, which was a bit unusual given she had plenty of time. She glanced at the clock then put away her vibrator. Picking up a book from the bedside table, she began reading something by Nietzsche. She wasn’t into it.
I could have been ignoring him. Or talking to someone else, she thought, hoping the strange man wouldn’t go around blabbing that she was a fake. I’m allowed to ignore him if I think he was rude, aren’t I?
She was sure he was being rude, asking questions like he did. Or at least she was justified in thinking he was, and then ignoring him. Yes, she thought, that’s my story if anyone ever asks.
Putting down the book, she pulled on her nightie and switched out the bedside light. Lying with her head resting on her soft pillow, she stared at the ceiling, wondering if she was cheating herself by separating her real life from her online life. It ‘would’ be more exciting if someone were interested in ME, rather than some air-headed waitress with big hooters, she thought. She wrinkled her nose. It was fun being Nastyangel. But it was also underhanded. She was fooling the men she was with. It was certainly no way to start a real relationship. Was she subconsciously keeping herself from doing that? Reminding herself that most of the men in the chat rooms were dickheads anyway, she sighed.
MasterServant didn’t seem like a dickhead though. Maybe a bit pushy, and annoying with his clever and incisive words. But what about his name? Was he some kind of an expert servant or something? Like a butler? Yeah right. Elaine realised she hadn’t read his profile.
She had seen couples in the chat rooms. They seemed to know each other quite well. One girl’s profile said she had been with her man for two years and hoped one day to meet him in person. At the time Elaine decided the idea was ridiculous, and definitely not for her. Surely they’d get bored, she’d thought.
Tossing and turning, sleep seemed to elude her. Maybe I could make up another nickname. Something closer to the truth that I can at least defend vigorously if I’m ever asked questions like that again. It wouldn’t hurt. I should give it a whirl. And maybe I’d get less of those vulgar messages Nastyangel always seems to get.
She smiled at the thought, and her eyelids suddenly felt like they weighed a ton. In minutes she was asleep.
*************************************************
Being honest will make you more vulnerable.
Elaine’s conscience was trying to talk her out of it as she booted up her computer and headed for the chat rooms. The other girls had left to go grocery shopping and she was glad it wasn’t her turn. She woke up remembering exactly what she had planned and after a late breakfast and putting some clothes in the machine downstairs, she found herself clicking on the link titled, ‘Make a new nickname’.
She tried lots of combinations, hoping to pick something attractive that suited her. Everything she came up with was either depressing or boring. Or funny, which missed the point of making a new name. She was about to give up when it dawned on her.
kurious.
The ‘k’ made her a bit quirky, which she was, with her weird attraction to candles and sandalwood, not to mention her anti-designer dress sense. Well, except for lingerie. She had a definite quirk for anything that made her feel sexy. Concealed lacy underthings certainly did that. Also, she wanted to say she was shy, thus she changed the first letter from a capital to a small one.
Also kurious spoke of her nature. She was curious. Very curious. About lots of things. She kept her profile simple and to the point. She hoped it sounded sexy enough to at least get her a few nibbles.
‘20-year-old college girl, passing time but not wasting it. Not looking for anything specific, just friendly people. Open-minded, a bit shy, and yes, curious. Message me if you are genuine.’
In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought as she clicked ‘accept’.
When she entered the chat rooms under her new name, she was unnoticed by those that usually greeted her as Nastyangel. A few people welcomed her and one even asked if she’d been there before. “Not really,” Elaine replied. She ignored one idiot who sent her a private message asking her if she was curious about his ten-inch dick. Remembering what MasterServant had said, she smiled to herself. He probably has a cock the size of a thimble, she thought, and giggled.
She hadn’t given much thought to ‘honesty on the net’. For some reason she felt oddly proud of herself. kurious was her. It was kind of liberating, not having to maintain a persona. And much easier to remember what she had said to whom. People seemed much nicer to kurious.
Elaine thought she’d had a nice time, just talking to people and ignoring the rude ones. She figured it cut both ways and she blocked people who were out of line. It was a sedate visit, but also satisfying. She felt better about the person she was projecting on the net, and therefore felt better about herself. All the regulars seemed to like her ‘just as she was’ and asked her to come back sometime. As she was preparing to leave, MasterServant entered the lobby, greeted a couple of people then slipped into a chat room called The BDSM Room.
Strangely, Elaine’s heart raced. She wanted to follow him and talk to him some more. At least this time she could argue that she was exactly like her profile described. But then he’d probably guess it was her. She would be caught, and he would be proved right. The scenario didn’t appeal to Elaine at all. Maybe he would notice her again and she could just start over.
Oh well, she thought as she clicked out of the chat rooms and opened a paper she was working on. She didn’t much like the Accountancy class she was in, and wasn’t in the mood to study.
She had a thought, opened an Internet page, typed in the URL for Google, and hit return. Elaine typed BDSM in the query box and waited a moment for the search to be processed. Her eyes narrowed as she read the first choice Google had selected for her. She glanced up to the corner of the page and she was shocked to see her question had generated five and a half million results. Five and a half million? she wondered, as she swallowed and reread the first ‘hit’.
“Spanking and bondage?” Elaine asked aloud. “What the hell?” The second ‘hit’ began with a definition, but she only could read a few lines then it stopped mid-sentence. She’d have to click on the link to see the rest. Her cursor hovered over it as she quickly read down the list of results. They all sounded similar.
Click.
Elaine checked her watch and realised she’d been following links and reading voraciously for two hours. So many things had caught her eye. It was amazing. Like a whole new world had opened to her. She never knew any of this even existed. Well that wasn’t exactly true, but almost everything she had known was wrong. People didn’t just beat on others for a thrill without the others consent. In fact, from what she’d read, very little at all could be done without someone’s consent. First of all they’d have to consent to what was going to be done, then it would happen. She hadn’t thought there was any structure to it at all.
Elaine knew the terms masochist and sadist. She knew they were names for the ‘fetishes’ of real people. She just figured that for some sick reason, some people actually liked being beaten on, so they sought out people who liked beating. It had all seemed quite sick before she’d begun reading.
‘Spanking’ had done it though. Well, ‘Introduction to Spanking’ actually. When the list of articles popped up on her screen and she read down the headings, her jaw dropped and her heart rate escalated. When she got to the end of the list, her eyes settled on one titled Introduction to Spanking. Elaine could feel her cheeks starting to burn as the humiliating image of herself draped over Kendra’s lap and receiving a spanking passed across her blurred eyes. Her nipples tingled and screwed into hard little points. Clicking the link and trying to breathe normally, she realised she was wet already.
With refocussed eyes, Elaine consumed the text and was surprised by the amount of it, the advice articles, and the quality of the information. It was on a relatively large and apparently respected site.
There weren’t any pictures though, but Elaine didn’t mind. The pictures in her mind were enough. Spanking and bondage, flogging, tickling, foot worship, caning, which she did NOT read about. Limits, contracts, play parties, dominants, submissives. The list was endless. She was fascinated in a voyeuristic kind of way. It was just ‘stuff she didn’t know’. That’s all. Or at least that’s how she justified spending two hours reading about it.
After all, she was 'kurious'.