An Evening with the Webcam

I drifted slowly into the waking world, dim memories of erotic dreams drifting away like tattered cobwebs. I hovered for a long time on the border between sleep and wakefulness, lightning flashes through my mind of pornographic images. Me on a table, strapped down in the center of a white room, men in white gowns and strange masks gathered around me, shoving metal probes into me, photographing my responses. Me as a captive, dressed in ceremonial robes, bound on all fours in the middle of the village square while a circle of men crowded around me, raping me, shoving hard cocks into every part of me, under the watchful eyes of the tribal elders. Other images, each so real I thought I could feel what was being done to me.

My eyes opened slowly, the slate gray light filtering through the bedroom curtains telling me it was early yet, the sun not quite up in the sky. I felt something in my mouth, and stirred...

...and instantly came wide awake, as I felt the dildo buried deep between my legs, the dull ache of the plug in my ass. Memories of the night before came pouring over me. I remembered masturbating in front of the webcam, remembered Robert telling me someone else was watching me; remembered what happened after, when the watcher came into the house and I gave my body to him. More images: his erect cock in my mouth; his come gushing over my body; the filthy things he said as I spread his gooey jism all over me; my orgasm as he called me dirty names, my second orgasm as his cock spurted deep in my ass.

My hands flew to my breasts. It hadn't been a dream; dried come clung to my breasts, my belly, my neck, my thighs, my face; matted my hair. I sat up in the bed, drawing the sheet around me, and reached up to unbuckle the strap holding the penis-shaped gag in my mouth. Then I froze suddenly, remembering Robert's instructions. "Check your email when you wake up, before you do anything else. I may have further instructions waiting for you tomorrow morning."

I glanced up at the camera in the corner, and looked over at the round camera eye clipped to my laptop on the nightstand beside me. It was possible he was watching right now, waiting to see if I would do as he'd instructed. The server was still running; the cameras throughout the house were still broadcasting to anyone who knew the address and had the proper password. He could easily be watching me...

...and so could Jason.

I shivered. A tiny whimper escaped around the gag. Jason knew the password; he had free access to the server; he could easily be watching, his eyes coveting me as I sat naked in bed, penetrated, still covered in the dry crusty remnants of his come. The knowledge made me flush with embarrassment; I felt very naked, exposed and vulnerable, and beneath it, the tiniest spark of arousal. I wanted him to want me, wanted him to be consumed by lust when he saw me, wanted him to look at me the way he had last night, when I was kneeling in front of him.

I turned toward the nightstand and drew the laptop toward me. The sheet fell away as I reached for the computer, giving the round camera eye a view of my exposed breasts. I wondered if either of them could see the dried come on my breasts as I loaded my email client and checked my mail.

One message from Robert, with a file attachment. My fingers trembled as I opened it.

Subject: slut

I trust that as you read this, your mouth, cunt, and anus are still filled. I have attached a picture to this email which I want you to look at. If it turns you on, you must masturbate to orgasm before you may remove the items which are penetrating you and get ready for work. You must also shave your cunt when you shower.

Jason sends his regards.

My eyes widened as the picture loaded. The image was of me, a frame from the camera on my laptop last night. I was leaning back on the couch, my eyes closed, my body naked and glistening with oil. My legs were spread wide; the end of a vibrator protruded from my ass, and a speculum was buried deep in my pussy, the gynecological tool stretching me open obscenely for the camera. My head was back, my long black hair cascading over my shoulders, and with one hand I was thrusting a long dildo deep into my mouth. The picture was a study in raw carnality, the dirtiest, nastiest image imaginable, and what made it the most compelling was how clearly aroused I was. A thin trickle of creamy white juices leaked from my spread-open pussy; my nipples stood up erect, hard as diamonds.

This was how Jason had seen me last night, as I wantonly impaled myself, masturbated for him, did dirty things to my body for his enjoyment without even knowing who he was. Studying the picture, remembering what I'd done to myself on the webcam and what he'd done to me later, I felt my body respond; my nipples hardened, and I felt my pussy contract around the dildo strapped inside me. And as I felt myself respond, my next actions were decided.

He'd known, of course. He'd known when he sent that picture that there was no way I could help but become aroused. Now that I was aroused, the dildos would stay in me until I gave myself an orgasm, masturbating in front of the cameras for whoever was watching.

If anyone was watching.

Moving slowly and deliberately, I pulled the sheet away from me, leaving my body exposed and naked as I sat on the edge of the bed. I ran my fingertips lightly over my breasts, feeling the dried crusty semen on them, making my nipples harden still more. I slid my hands down my body, moaning softly around the gag, stopping when I reached the leather strap around my waist that held the dildo and plug inside me. I unbuckled the strap and set it carefully on the nightstand. Then I placed my hands on my knees,

I turned to face the computer on the nightstand, looking directly into the camera eye, then with one violent motion I pushed my knees apart, spreading my legs wide to give the camera a good view of the dildo and anal plug still within me. I held my legs apart for a long moment, giving the camera plenty of time to examine me, then opened the drawer on the nightstand and took out a tube of lubricant.

I slid the dildo partway out of my clenching pussy, then left it protruding indecently from between my legs as I opened the tube of lubricant. I squeezed a thick ribbon of the slippery jelly along the length of the dildo where it protruded from me, then set the tube back in the drawer. My body had betrayed me, reacting sexually to the image of myself from the night before and setting me down this path where I had to masturbate openly in front of the camera even knowing that Jason might be watching, and I intended to punish it for that.

I slid my hands back up my body, running my fingernails lightly over the sides of my breasts, then rested my hands over my breasts. I looked into the camera, my legs still splayed wide, then closed my eyes, thinking about what I was about to do.

Suddenly, savagely, I clamped down on my nipples, as hard as I could. I twisted them hard as I squeezed, and pulled them straight away from my body, punishing them for getting hard. My scream was muffled by the gag in my mouth, I threw my head back, my eyes squeezed tightly shut in pain, as I twisted and pulled my nipples ruthlessly.

When I could bear no more, I released my nipples and lay flat on my back on the bed, drawing my knees up and spreading my legs wider still. I gripped the dildo in both hands and shoved it into my aching pussy, fast and deep. I screamed again around the penis-shaped gag in my mouth as I took myself hard, thrusting the dildo savagely into my pussy with both hands, over and over. I twisted and thrashed on the bed as I ravished myself without mercy, impaling myself deeply and roughly, punishing my most private and sensitive place for what it had done to me, for the way it had wanted me to do this.

And I did want to do this. I wanted Jason to watch; I wanted him to see me violating myself this way. I wanted this performance to turn him on, wanted him to become aroused at the sight of me ravishing my own body so roughly. The idea that he might be watching aroused me still more; my own juices flowed freely from my assaulted pussy. I wanted to punish my body still more, wanted to sully myself for wanting him to watch.

I shoved the dildo into myself one more time and then stopped, taking my hands away, breathing deeply, moaning and whimpering. I wanted to make myself as dirty as I felt, show whoever might be watching just how filthy I was.

I sat up unsteadily. Acting on an impulse I didn't fully understand, I turned to the computer, setting the camera to record to disk as it broadcast. I picked up the tube of lubricating jelly again. Then I lay back down, holding the tube between my legs, and squeezed a large blob of jelly directly onto my clit. I kept squeezing as I moved the tube up over my mound, across my stomach, and up between my breasts, leaving a wide, thick ribbon of the slippery jelly all the way along my body. I made a large circle of jelly around each breast, the slippery goo oozing over my skin, thinking about how it had felt when Jason spurted blast after blast of thick warm come over my body. Finally, I squeezed the last of the jelly over each nipple, making a huge blob of goo in the center of each breast.

I dropped the empty tube and lay still for a long time, my arms at my sides, my eyes closed, remembering how dirty I had felt last night as I'd spread his come all over me. Very slowly, I brought my hands up to my breasts and squeezed them, hard, feeling the slippery goo ooze between my fingers. I slid my hands slowly down my body, smearing it thickly with the slick jelly, visualizing myself as I must have looked to him as I masturbated for him last night. I brought my hands back up my body, spreading the goo still more as I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, making myself dirtier with each passing moment. My hands found my breasts again, slick and glistening, wet sounds as I squeezed tightly, drawing another moan around the penis gag. The camera watched silently as my hands slid up and down the length of my body in long strokes, over and over, until I was covered in the gooey, oozing jelly.

My hands slid between my legs, one hand gripping the end of the dildo firmly as my fingers stroked my slippery clit. I drew the dildo slowly out until its head barely penetrated me, then shoved it in hard, slamming my hips up to meet it and pressing down on my clit with a fingernail. I took myself hard, my body drenched in sweat and goo, thrusting my hips up against the dildo again and again, until I exploded in orgasm, my body shaking and twitching, my screams stopped by the dildo strapped into my mouth.

Finally, the orgasm subsided, and I lay shaking on the bed, spent. I drifted for a time, half asleep, in the warm post-orgasmic glow. Eventually, the world drifted back into focus. I rose, wiping my hands on my thighs, and stopped the camera on my laptop from recording, then rose and walked on unstable legs into the bathroom.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time. I was truly a mess; the activities of the evening before and my own defilement of myself this morning were all over my body. My hair was matted and tangled; my body completely covered in drying and sticky lubricating jelly. Leaning close, I could still see the line of dried come where his semen had shot across my face, disappearing beneath the leather strap that held the penis gag in my mouth. The dildo still jutted from my aching pussy.

Part of me wanted to reach out and wipe the image away, but another part could not stop looking. I watched myself reach between my legs and withdraw the dildo; it came out with a wet sucking sound, thickly covered in lubricant and my own white, creamy come. I brought it up between my breasts, remembering how Jason's cock had felt between them last night, and stood before the mirror as if hypnotized, stroking the dildo there, adding my own juices to the layers of filth covering my body.

All at once, the spell was broken, and I shuddered and dropped the dildo onto the counter. I reached behind my head and unstrapped the gag with fingers made clumsy by haste, and pulled the penis gag from my mouth, dropping it also. Then I tugged at the plug, gasping as my anus stretched around the thick flared bulb, finally withdrawing it completely. Immediately, I felt something thick and warm and wet dripping from me and running down my leg-his come, which had remained in me all night. I felt deeply, achingly empty with nothing penetrating me, and dirtier than I had ever imagined possible.

I ran the shower until it warmed up, and stepped beneath the stream to wash the filth away. I soaped myself up again and again, scrubbing with the body sponge until my skin turned red. I washed my hair over and over, lathering it repeatedly until I had run out of shampoo.

Only then did I remember there was something else I had to do.

I sat carefully on the small bench in the back of the shower stall, facing the camera mounted over the door to the bathroom, and spread my legs wide. I picked up the can of shave gel and carefully, meticulously lathered the triangular patch of pubic hair between my legs. Then I slowly shaved myself bald, careful to remove every last trace of hair.

By the time I'd finished, the water ran cold. I stepped from the shower, wrapping a large fluffy towel around myself.

Impossibly, I still felt just as dirty as I had when I stepped into the shower. I wiped the steam from the mirror and regarded myself, still dripping wet. I raised my hand to my cheek, watching my reflection mimic me. I let the towel slip away and stroked my soft, hairless mound, studying my reflection as she did the same. I brought my hands to my breasts, halfway expecting to find them still covered in semen and sticky lubricating jelly and my own sexual juices...and for the briefest split-second, felt a flicker of something like disappointment when they weren't.

Instantly, a flash of heat flushed my face as a wave of burning, searing shame washed over me. "You dirty little slut," I said, addressing myself in the mirror. "You insatiable, greedy little cock-hungry whore. You can't get enough, can you?"

My nipples hardened in response under my hands. I grabbed them and twisted savagely. "You love giving up your body, don't you? You want to be fucked and used and come on, you want to be on your knees and begging for it, and oh, my God!" I twisted my nipples harder, gasping. "You like it! You like what happened to you! You filthy comesoaked whore!"

I picked up the dildo, still slippery with its thick coating of lubricant and come, and leaned in close to the mirror, bending over the sink. "You want this right now, don't you?" I asked my reflection accusingly. "You want this filthy thing shoved in your snatch." And it was true; I did. I wanted Jason to walk into the bathroom, right now; wanted him to grab my hair, bend me over the sink, and hold me there while he pounded me with the dildo, as Robert watched from his hotel room on the camera.

I laughed and turned away from the mirror, dropping the dildo, denying myself. I picked up the towel and began dried myself off, smiling, savoring the raging need and desire. It had been a long time since I'd felt this deliciously, desperately horny; Robert knew how to play my body and mind like an instrument, but this time he'd outdone himself.

Was he watching right now? Was Jason? Could either of them see my need? I looked up at the camera. No way to tell; and in a way, that made it even more delicious. I finished drying and slipped on my silky robe, not bothering to tie it closed, then went to the kitchen to fix breakfast. I could almost feel the cameras following me, and pictured the men switching views as I walked through the house.

In the kitchen, I put on a pot of coffee. I wasn't in any state to cook, so I rummaged through the refrigerator for a while and settled on cold milk and cereal. My hands kept slipping to my smooth, freshly-shaven mound; I stroked the soft skin, the sensations making me shudder and gasp. I leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, and let my hands wander over my body.

I let my mind drift as I waited. I imagined hearing a knock at the door, pictured myself opening the door dressed only in my thin silk robe. I visualized Jason standing there, that look of self-confident hunger on his face. "Yes or no?" the fantasy-Jason asked. "I will be rough."

"Oh, God, yes!" my fantasy-self replied. "I-"

In my mind, I never finished the sentence. Jason was on top of me, grabbing me by the hair, pulling my head back and kissing me roughly. I imagined him pushing me hard against the wall, stripping the robe from me, then dragging me by my hair into the kitchen. I visualized him pushing me down onto the table on my back, unzipping his pants, releasing his thick, hard cock. I imagined myself opening my legs willingly to him, and could almost hear my scream as he entered me, hard and rough, bringing me instantly to orgasm. I imagined him taking me, hard and demanding, again and again, every thrust bringing my orgasm higher; imagined my body, all soft curves and submission, giving itself up to him until his moans became a scream and he unleashed a torrent of hot, wet come deep inside me.

Then I imagined him pulling out of me, leaving me spent and moaning weakly and barely able to move. I pictured him zipping up his pants matter-of-factly, then turning to the refrigerator. I fantasized him taking out a pint of the heavy cream I like to use in my coffee, opening it, and pouring the cold white liquid over my face and body. I imagined him picking up a banana from the countertop and shoving it rudely into my dripping pussy, then pictured him turning to go, leaving me spent and naked on the table in a puddle of milk and come, the banana still buried inside me. I pictured Robert in his hotel room, watching intently, becoming hard and aroused at the sight of another man using and defiling me.

The coffee maker gurgled and burped as it finished brewing, bringing me out of the fantasy. I blinked, disoriented for a moment, then smiled as an idea came to me.

I poured myself a mug of coffee and set it on the table. I set a bowl on the table next to it, then put down the box of cereal and the carton of milk beside it. Still grinning, I picked up a banana from the counter and placed it on the table next to the milk.

I sat at the table facing the camera installed on the wall in the kitchen, hoping one or both of them was watching. I slipped the robe off my shoulders, and leaned back in my chair, spreading my legs and placing my heels up on the table. I caressed my body, stroking my breasts, running my fingernails over the soft skin, and felt myself respond. Then, grinning directly at the camera, I picked up the banana and peeled it.

I tossed the banana peel casually to the floor, then spread myself open with my fingers and carefully slid the peeled banana as deeply as I could into my pussy.The fruit was soft and yielding, much different from the hard, unyielding dildo that had been inside me for so long. I sighed and closed my eyes as I masturbated, moving the banana in slow, gentle strokes.

When I felt my juices begin to flow, leaking out around the banana, I stopped and took my feet off the table, leaving the banana still nestled inside my body.I poured a bowl of cold cereal, then slowly withdrew the banana,. Grinning at the camera, I cut it into slices and added it to my cereal.

I caressed myself, feeling very dirty again at the thought of eating the banana that had so recently been inside me. One hand slid over my body, fondling my breasts, sliding over the smoothness between my legs as I ate. I moaned very softly, feeling horny and slutty and wonderfully sexy. My coffee sat untouched; and when I had finished my cereal, I ran my fingertips through the milk that remained at the bottom of the bowl and raised them to my lips, remembering my fantasy. Then I rose and slipped off the robe, leaving it crumpled on the chair as I walked naked through the house to get ready for work.