I joined the forum only a few weeks ago but I already had multiple messages. Most were stupid or annoying but there was one that was interesting. He mentioned a few things and asked if we could talk so he could get to know me better. I was happy he seemed nice yet direct, a welcomed change from my usual fare of stilted Asian “boyfriends” my relatives try to set me up with.
We exchanged a few emails and then he asked for my kik account. I hadn’t done kik in months because it wasn’t my style. At least it wasn’t Gchat or something, I thought. I leaned back on my couch and curled my feet up under me.
“Hi…” I start.
“Hi,” he replies, “I read you are from a conservative background.”
“It wasn’t bad. Just boring.”
“Then tell me about it. And feel free to ask me any questions. Tell me a little about yourself.”
“Ok, I guess I’m just shy. Both my parents are Chinese but I’ve spent all my life in CA.” I had only met him a few minutes ago so I’m reluctant to say anything more. I keep messing around on my computer, only half-interested in the conversation.
“Know I won’t judge you,” he assures me, telling me he’s also from a conservative background. He asks if my parents tell me who to date.
“YES!” I laugh. He gets me. I talk about how annoying all of my “boyfriends” are. We talk more before he mentions how many women he’s slept with. I gasp. How can one man sleep with so many girls? “How do you do it?”
“I’m a dominate guy,” he responds. I imagine him shrugging his broad shoulders. I grin—I’m not sure when I imagined he was broad shouldered and good looking but I do.
“How though?” I ask, curious.
“Girls do what I tell them to.”
“But why?” He fascinates me like no one has. I don’t know what it is about him.
“For example, you will address me as ‘Sir’ from now on.” I sit up on the couch. What? Why would I do that? No guy can tell me what to do! “Because I said so,” he explains. I sense a weird hardness to a voice I haven’t heard of a man I met only an hour ago. “Do as you’re told. Like a good girl.” I instinctively want to say no but I’m still curious. I turn my computer off and focus on my phone—this random guy has my complete attention.
“I don’t quite understand,” I type slowly. “Why?”
“Because I said so!” he snaps. “Besides, good girls get rewards.” Now I am VERY interested. What did he mean by rewards? Could he help me with my writing? Or making food? Or… other things?
I reluctantly say “Ok… sir…” I want to appease him.
“Good girl. Always call me ‘Sir’. So you want to know what I make girls do?”
“Yes!” I’m riveted.
“Yes what?”
“Uhh, yes sir?”
“Good girl. I cuff their hands behind their backs and make them kneel to suck my cock. I grab their hair as they suck.”
“Why would a girl ever do that!? Restrain themselves?” I exclaim, remembering to add, “Sir.”
“They like it,” he tells me, “do you like the idea? Is your pussy wet?”
I blush. I must admit to myself I DO like the idea… and I notice I am getting aroused. “Umm, a little I guess, sir.”
“Good girl. Are you in the bedroom? Go there now. Lie down.”
“Ok,” I hesitate but he insists. I lie down on the plush mattress.
“Good girl. Now take off your clothes.”
“What!?” I don’t want to. I’m so confused.
“Because I said so!” he barks, “Don’t question me. I apparently have to be firm with you. You listen and do what I say.”
“Ok, ok, sir,” I gulp and pull off my shorts and orange cotton panties. I cross my legs, self-conscious even by myself.
“Are you naked?”
“Yes, sir,” I lie. I’m only half naked.
“Good girl,” he seems content. “Spread your legs wide open,” he orders. “Are your legs spread wide?”
I should stop this, I think to myself. But… it’s such a turn-on. “Ok, sir.”
“Good girl. By being good I will give you a reward.”
“What, sir?” I eagerly ask.
“You will play with your pussy,” he demands. “Start with two fingers rubbing it.” I reach down with my left hand so my right can type back to him. I feel how wet I already am—how did I get this wet? “Now are you wet?”
“Yes, sir,” I admit, “but I don’t know how. It usually takes me a lot longer.”
“You are a submissive and like it when strong men tell you what to do. That turns you on,” he explains, “and makes you respect me. Don’t you respect me?”
“Yes, sir,” I am breathing harder now but my legs hurt. “Can I close my legs?”
“No,” he snaps, “Keep rubbing your pussy. But,” he adds, “don’t you dare cum without permission.”
“What!” I moan, “How?” My hand is already coated in my juice. How much longer?
“If you question me again, I will punish you,” he warns. “Now, show me how wet you are.”
My mind freezes. What does that mean? I would never show him a picture of me! “No, please, sir.”
“Be a good girl. Show me your pussy.”
I want to stop but he’s so demanding… and no one would know it’s mine… “But I’m scared, sir.”
“Show me your pussy and I’ll allow you to cum.” My hands feel so good up against my sex. I don’t know what to do—or do I? Incredibly I extend my hand, taking a picture of myself spread out. I wince as I see how swollen my pussy is, my lips shining with my sweet lube. I look like every slut on the internet. I don’t want to show it to anyone… but he demanded it. I reluctantly hit send.
“Now at least I can cum, sir?”
“Don’t cum yet,” he interrupts, “slip two fingers inside your pussy. Now fuck them. Not gently. Fuck them HARD.” I gulp. I jam my fingers up my tight hole, forcing them in and out. I’m never this rough but I suddenly imagine him there, his throbbing manhood inside me, filling me. I moan loudly. He’s so strong! He’s in control.
“Please can I cum, sir?” I plead.
“Not yet,” he orders, “keep fucking your pussy with your fingers.” My left hand speeds up, pulling all the way out to the fingertips before slamming all the way back in. The thud of my hand against my mound makes me wild. My body stiffens as I imagine him there. I groan loudly. My hand uncontrollably pounds my young pussy. It doesn’t want my hands. It wants HIM. My toes curl as I fuck myself, imagining him with so much control as he fucks me. His powerful cock slips easily in and out of my wet pussy. It’s too much. I scream as I cum. He seems to know, “did you cum?”
“I’m so sorry…I didn’t want to, sir.”
“I will discipline you. Bend over.” I turn over, pushing my ass into the air. “You are going to slap your ass. Ten times on each cheek. Hard. I want pics before and after to compare.”
“Please, no, sir, that’ll hurt. Just five?”
“That’s the point. You must not disobey me.”
I take the picture of my own ass. I have never sent pictures to anyone before and now this strange man will have two. I see how pale my cheeks are… and how engorged my pussy still is. I hit send.
“Now spank yourself. Ten times on each cheek.” I can’t believe this. Will I actually do this? But I already know the answer is yes. He told me to. I gulp and hit myself weakly. The pain is sharp but disappears quickly. Not so bad. I spank myself again, harder. Then again. And again. And again. I whimper as the count goes up: six, seven, eight. Each time I spank myself harder. Ten times. Each cheek. The pain sharpens, refusing to disappear now. My ass hurts. I set the camera up again, taking the shot. My cheeks are bright red and painful. My hands shake as I hit send.
“Good girl,” he approves. “Now to video it.”
I am shaking. “How did I get this way? This is horrible!” I exclaim. I can’t take any more. I just sent him three pictures of my own pussy and spanking. I just came faster and harder than ever before.
“This is who you are,” he says.
Is he right? With a fast excuse, I leave.