Mr L: Why?
It was a weird question that made me pause my vibrator for a while. Out of all questions to ask I didn't think he would ask me why I was masturbating. Why does anyone masturbate?
He should have requested a video from me; after all, all men are alike. They like to see women touching themselves.
Perhaps this internet master doesn't quite know the concept of DOM and SUB. He's probably a fluke.
What if Charlotte was wrong about him or she gave me the wrong handle? Some men pretend to be DOM, but they are looking for free, trained sex slaves.
The way I see it I may never find a true worthy master. This is too hard. Men are too sneaky and lie a lot
Me: That's not the question I was expecting.
Mr L: Haven't I told you, Baby girl, that I'm not like other men? Do well to always remember that. That way we don't have a problem.
Me: Why does anyone masturbate? I was horny that's why.
Mr L had a knack for always interrupting the rhythmic hum of my vibrator. He's always making me stop. But I don't mind because these days I'm tired of masturbating on my own, anyway. I need a master's touch. A master's voice. A master who can control me and tell me everything is okay; who can direct me on how to make the highest pleasuring point step by step while I'm falling into an abyss by these days's high-pressure work. I can't take it anymore. I need to seclude just for a while. Some say we live because of a few happiest and most precious moments. Isn't it true? We humans are born to undertake so much pain and many moments in life we enjoy can heal us.
Mr L: Why do you need another master when you already have one?
I was shocked by his question. What does he mean by I already have one? Who is he talking about? I wondered why he was acting so weird today.
Me: Mr L, I don't have another master. Why will you think I do?
Mr L: Don't lie to me, baby girl.
Me: I swear, I'm not lying.
A ping from Mr. L announced the arrival of a new message, this time adorned with a link to a blog post. Intrigued, I clicked, and my screen flooded with the title, "Why I Need a Dom."
The page was a collection of responses, gotten from the interviews of countless subs in the city though they remained anonymous.
Each was asked why they needed a Dom.
Some sought the thrill, others financial gain and a few said they were driven by past trauma.
But it was the narrative of a woman yearning for paternal love that struck a chord within me. Her words painted a portrait of longing, of a childhood devoid of affectionate guidance. I could almost feel her ache as she described the absence of a gentle hand on her head, the void left by the absence of a father who ran away with his mistress when she was just given.
Her story resonated deeply, echoing my own unspoken desires, and I couldn't help but empathize with her quest for a Daddy Dom to fill the paternal void she had endured for so long.
Mr. L: So, what makes you feel you need a Dom?
Me: Growing up, my father was abusive and frequently intoxicated, while my mother tirelessly worked to provide for us. I lacked proper care and support. However, in high school, a teacher stepped in to offer guidance and support. He was always telling me what to do and I found that I quite liked it. Although he never crossed any boundaries, I mistook his kindness for something more. That experience taught me the importance of nurturing and parental care. And from then on, I just sought a master-sub relationship.
Charlotte mentioned that she gave herself completely to Mr. L even if it was just an online BDSM. Maybe I can do it as well. If Charlotte said he's good, then he is. I'm sure he's not someone to post our intimate chats online so why not be honest with him?
Mr L: I see. Did anyone make you touch yourself?
Me: No. I told you already that I frequently masturbate to force myself out of tensed and anxious feelings.
Mr. L: Does it work?
Me: Well, It does most times, but it is also easy to fall into new emptiness afterward.
MR.L: I know what your problem is. You find it difficult to control emotions, and now because of work, it is easy to be nervous, so you hope someone can be by your side. To lead you.
A smile spreads across my face, relieved that Mr. L seems to grasp where I'm coming from. It's refreshing to have a deeper conversation with him, and I find myself feeling drawn to him at this moment. I didn't expect him to understand me so well, but I was pleasantly surprised.
Mr. L: So baby girl, be honest what do think about me now?
Me: Sending coffee to my boss was really really a tough punishment, but strangely, after doing it, that fear I had towards him doesn't seem as daunting anymore. Turns out, he's not the demon I made him out to be in my head. I was doubting if you could be a good master earlier, but now I think about it more clearly I think you will be. I like it when my punishment is exciting but also very hard.
Mr L: I am the best master there is for you, baby girl. You will find a perfect balance with me and soon you will be the perfect sub. Are you still masturbating?
Me: No, I paused. Sorry. Did you want a video?
Mr L: No. But next time tell me.
Me: I will.
I swallow.
Mr. L's delay in asking for a video call made me trust him more. It seemed like he wanted me to feel at ease before moving forward. It showed he had a deep understanding of building trust in a BDSM relationship.
Me: So, did I pass your "sub test"?
Mr. L: There wasn't a test. I've been drawn to you from the start. You're different from the others.
Me: Does this mean I can call you master now?
Excited, I let out a squeal and did a little victory dance.
Mr. L: Yes, but there's one more thing. You have one more punishment for lying.
Me: What’s it?
I typed already getting excited thinking about it. A thrill runs through me.
Mr. L: We do a video call now.
Me: Sure.
Mr. L calls on video, but his face remains hidden, only showing his waist down. He's dressed in a sleek pantsuit, and the backdrop suggests he's in a hotel room, with drawn curtains hinting at the early morning outside. I can't help but wonder where he is.
"Focus on me, not my surroundings," Mr. L orders, his seductive British voice sending shivers down my spine, oddly familiar yet stirring a newfound desire within me.
I comply redirecting my attention to him, but my gaze drifts to his waistline, where I notice another small tattoo, this time with unfamiliar writing. Intrigued, I'm curious about what language it might be in.
"Lie down straight." He instructed.
I obeyed and lay straight on the bed, observing as Mr. L lowered the phone, and I saw the biggest cock I'd ever seen in my life. God, he was so damn hard already.
What’s he going to have me do?