Virtually Real

© 2015 Sal De Klerk, Kit Cartaii, All Rights Reserved

Edited by ElmerStudd

Authors Note:

The outline called for a longer story involving more activity and characters, unfortunately, Kit was unable to continue writing his part. I may continue this on my own if there is enough demand for it.

Warning:

This story contains adult content and offensive language including virtual sex, non-consensual violent fellatio, breast torture, and several racial epithets. If this is not your kind of smut, then please find another story more to your liking.

8========D

I was at my computer, logged into my favorite MMO. It was like Second Life, but much more sexually oriented. My avatar was standing in jail as the female avatar in the cell was on her knees giving my avatar a blow job. I began to type...

Sir Sailé: "That's right bitch, make me cum."

Her response came fast, she was an excellent typist...

0wn3d_5lu7: "Oh Master! this one loves the feel of your hard cock blasting its life-giving juice on this whore's slutty face."

I smiled as my avatar started to spew virtual cum onto my collared submissive. She was my most loyal and favorite submissive. She was the only sub in my harem that had earned my collar. It took three years, our collaring ceremony was two years ago and she had never once given me a reason to regret taking that step. As a surprise I had a designer make a special collar just for her.

Her favorite fantasies involved either being a prisoner, who was used by guards or a lawyer, visiting an imprisoned client who attacks her. I only allowed her to act out those scenarios as a special treat and she earned a reward after spending six hours waiting for me to send her a message. I told her to kneel and wait for me until I sent her a message and when I did, she would have five seconds to respond or she would be punished.

I sent between one and three words per hour for six hours, each time I got a response almost immediately. For Proving her obedience and loyalty, I found a jail and bought a police uniform and we role-played a guard and prisoner scenario.

Once my avatar ejaculated all over her face, I leaned back in my chair and smiled. I typed...

Sir Sailé: "I have to leave for work now pet. You may go dancing, but wear my cum proudly! I will be back tonight. May you bring honor and favor to my collar, my beloved pet."

I always signed off with that phrase and her response was just as much a part of our ritual, taken from the submissive's creed...

0wn3d_5lu7: My actions reflect upon you my Master, I will never intentionally embarrass or displease you, for if I do I will surrender your collar.

I logged out, sighing as I shut off my computer and stood up. I went to take a shower and get ready for work, not looking forward to the two-hour bus ride to a job that sucked, but at least the pay was craptastic.

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

For those who don't know about the Utherverse, It's an MMO world similar to Second Life, but very adult. You could do virtual drugs, go swimming, fuck pretty much anywhere, go to night clubs, watch porno flicks (both staring real people or avatars), sell merchandise, from clothing for avatars to decorative items used in setting up a Zaby (virtual apartment) or even create your area for personal or public use. There is an in-world currency called Rays, that was exchangeable for real money. I had a good friend, in the world, who was in a car wreck and bedridden for the better part of a year. She spent every waking moment in the world, being a working girl, and made enough money to cover her bills and save a bit of cash.

I was a well known and popular Dom, with about a dozen females in my harem, but only one had earned my collar. I regularly hired out my girls to be the entertainment at parties of all kinds. I made enough to pay my monthly membership fee, pay rent on my night club and a few other venues I owned.

As I went through my routine, I looked back on my life. I had planned to be a cop, like every other male of my family. Then 9/11 happened, and in a patriotic fervor, I joined the Navy and became a Master at Arms. I loved the job and my police recruiter had promised me that I would be given preferred treatment when my enlistment was over. Then one night my life was destroyed when I took an arrow to the knee, Literally.

I was only a few months from my discharge date when I responded to a radio report of unknown trouble. I was the first to arrive on the scene and as I got out of the patrol car to investigate, I was shot in the left knee with a bolt from a crossbow. I drew my Colt 1911 and fired six rounds, killing my attacker. The investigation revealed that an intoxicated seaman recruit had acquired a crossbow and was using it to rob sailors. I spent the last bit of my enlistment in a Naval Hospital recovery unit, doing physical therapy. Before I was discharged from the Navy I tried to reenlist in the Naval Reserve, but But BuPers refused my reenlistment due to my bad knee. NavMed refused to give me a disability rating. Too hurt to serve, but not hurt enough to get treatment. Go figure.

Once I had my DD214, I returned to my home town and called my police recruiter, to make arrangements to attend the academy. After a long and drawn-out review of my medical records and several physical exams, I was politely informed that I would not be hired due to the 'severe and long-lasting effects of the penetrating trauma to the subject's patella.'

I applied for all kinds of waivers for every municipal police department, county sheriff's office, and four different state police agencies. I'd even applied to NCIS, but none of them would consider someone with a bad knee. As a last resort, I applied for a waiver to reenlist in the Navy, which was denied. I had no idea what to do with my life.

Eventually, I took a job as a security guard, just to get out of the house and make some money, while I tried to figure out what to do with my life. I was assigned to work in an upscale condo in the heart of downtown Orlando. Within months I was made the shift supervisor and shortly thereafter, I was promoted to site supervisor.

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

That day, like every other weekday, I arrived at work and relived the third shift supervisor. Minutes after I'd arrived, the rest of my first shift team began to relieve their counterparts. Besides me, there was the shift supervisor, the building rover, the parking lot rover, the access control officer, the exterior rover, and the employee access control officer. As each member of my team arrived, they checked in with me and went to their assigned post. I had them rotate every two hours to limit boredom and so that no one was outside in the Florida heat for too long.

Once everyone was in place, I made spot checks of a few of the known trouble spots before logging into the security computer and checking emails from the property manager or residents. Then I reviewed the security logs for anything that I needed to be aware of. There wasn't anything too pressing, just an upgrade to internal security and yet another memo, reminding everyone who worked in the building to be on their best behavior when dealing with the 'pain in the ass bitch of a lawyer,' in the penthouse.

I stood up, stretched, and headed to the bathroom. After finishing up, I washed my hands and looked into the mirror to check my uniform. I may hate the job, but the Navy taught me pride in appearance, a lesson I was trying to instill in my officers with varying degrees of success. I was pleased with how I looked, 6'2" 190 pounds, olive complexion, clean-shaven, close-cropped jet black hair, and brown eyes. Not bad I thought, before returning to my desk.

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

0wn3d_5lu7 spent a couple of hours dancing with some friends before she logged out of her computer. When it shut down, she kissed two fingers and pressed them against the cool glass of a picture prominently displayed on her desk. It was a picture of her collaring ceremony. She was standing naked in front of many of her online friends, as her master presented her the collar he'd designed for her. It was the happiest moment of her life. Better than graduating Summa Cum Laude and being the valedictorian at Yale, or graduating Summa Cum Laude and valedictorian of her Columbia Law School class.

Standing up from her computer chair, she put on her robe and looked into the full-length mirror next to her desk. She started to recite a mantra she'd written to take her out of subspace and give her the strength and power she needed for the real world:

"I am a strong and powerful woman. I trust I will make the right choices for me and my clients. I have a well of strength and power to draw upon as needed. I am woman! I am powerful! I am Raquel!" she shouted the last three words. She then went to take a shower and relax before starting her workday.

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

After graduation she'd clerked for a Supreme Court Justice until that justice died, then, wanting to get away from Washington DC and live in a warmer climate, she got a job as a Junior Partner at the Orlando office of Gambini and Woods Law Firm. She started in the Criminal Defense division. She'd won ninety of her first one hundred cases and her billable hours were the second highest in the firm. The Senior partners began to notice her. Well, to be honest, they had already noticed her, but what do you expect when a good looking, twenty-something woman with legs that started in Key West and didn't stop until they hit Canada showed up.

Now they were noticing her for her brains and talent. She was quickly promoted to Partner, then Senior Partner. Now, her only obstacle to becoming a named partner was Vinny's wife, Mona Lisa. The two women did not get along, probably because they were both fairly young and very hot. The first time Mona Lisa had met her, she was flying to Las Vegas with Vinny to meet with a client. She could still hear that annoying, nasally, whiny, voice saying, "That's who you're going with, while I stay home with Vinny Jr?" Ever since that day, Mona Lisa had a strong dislike for Raquel.

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

Once she was dressed for work, she went to her home office, glad she'd convinced the other Senior Partners to approve telecommuting. Her home office was a lot nicer than the one at the firm. Besides, with the hours she worked, she would spend little time at home and most of that time would be working anyway. The biggest benefit of working from home was, that she could log in to the Utherverse anytime she wanted and she rarely had to deal with office politics or gossip, which she hated with a passion.

She read over the latest deposition her associate had conducted, while she mindlessly fingered the delicate gold choker she'd bought for herself as a subtle reminder that she was owned and collared, at least online. On several occasions, she'd thought about asking Sir Sailé to take ownership of her in real life, but there was a streak of independence inside her that wouldn't let her surrender herself completely to another, the way she greatly desired.

Raquel stood up and stretched after reviewing several depositions, looking for something, anything, that would help her client. So far she hadn't discovered anything, so she reached out to her personal investigator, to see if he had found anything yet. While waiting for him to get back to her, she decided to take a break and go get a cup of coffee. After pouring herself a cup of the special brew that was only made for the President of the Republic of Colombia, who'd send her two pounds a week in gratitude for keeping his son out of jail when he'd been charged with a DUI.

When she had returned to her office, she saw that 'damn peeping spic' looking in her window, again. It was the third time this week. She stormed out of her office and called the useless flashlight cops...again to deal with this.

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

"Security, Lieutenant Murphy."

"Those fuckin' spics in maintenance are looking in my windows again. Do something or I'll have your ass," she complained.

I grimaced as the caller slammed the phone down before I could respond.

"Rich Bitch?" asked Kevin, the parking lot rover who was checking in after making his initial round of the parking structure.

I nodded and debated having the building rover take care of her complaint. I decided to handle it myself, because no matter who I sent to deal with her, she wouldn't be satisfied until I went up there. I stood up making sure my uniform was perfect and using my passkey, I took the elevator to the penthouse. When the elevator doors opened, she was waiting for me.

"Last week they were looking in my kitchen windows, today they're looking in my office windows. I don't feel safe with them around. Are you going to report them or do I need to get your ass fired?" she barked at me before the elevator doors even finished opening.

Struggling to keep my temper in check, I began to speak slowly and clearly, as you would to a misbehaving child, when you're trying not to lose your temper. "Ma'am, I told you last week, the maintenance staff is painting the exterior walls of the building. THEY ARE NOT spying on you, They're just doing their job."

She grabbed my arm and drug me into her office. She pointed to Mario, who was standing on a ladder. "Look, that spic is spying on me!"

"First of all, Ma'am," I said, my voice dripping venomous sarcasm on the last word, "Mario is a Wop, not a Spic. I'm a Spic. If you're going to be a racist bitch at least be smart enough to use the right racial slur, you uptight harpy. If you look at his clothes, you can see he has paint on him, he's holding a fucking paintbrush and there's a bucket of paint next to him." I had lost my temper and knew that I was about to get fired. At this point I didn't care, I just wanted to tell her what everyone thought of her.

"Now is there anything else I can do for you..." my voice trailed off as I saw a framed photo on her desk. A photo I knew all too well. I had the exact same one on my desk. I stepped closer to be sure and confirmed that it was, in fact, the photo of our collaring ceremony I'd sent to 0wn3d_5lu7 and instructed her to keep on her desk. My mind began to race, covering everything I knew about 0wn3d_5lu7:

"Lawyer lives in Orlando, thirty-four, Yale/Columbia, daughter in boarding school, gold choker, lives alone, works at home, Senior Partner," then I compared those details to what I knew about Ms. Raquel Piedmont...

"Lawyer, Orlando, mid-thirties, Yale and Columbia pennants on the wall, picture of teen girl in school uniform on desk, gold choker, lives alone, works from home, senior partner... it couldn't be, could it?"

Realizing that I was already going to be fired no matter what I did at this point, I decided that, if the bold got the spoils, then it was time to be bold. My dick grew hard as I stepped close to her. Realizing that she was apoplectic, her face red, her mouth opening and closing, while glaring at me in shock, never having had to deal with someone who was willing to speak to her that way. I stepped close to her, looking her square in the eyes. Her mouth stopped moving as she waited for me to speak. I slapped her across her face.

As she drew in a breath to scream and I simply said, "May you bring honor and favor to my collar, my beloved pet," as I lightly touched the choker she'd proudly told me about, to wear 'in the meat' to remind her of me when we were apart.

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

Raquel stood there frozen. No one, not even her peers, had ever dared to talk to her like that. She had never been so enraged in her life, she couldn't even speak. Then, without any warning whatsoever, the fucking peon had slapped Raquel. She could feel a huge red handprint marring her perfect skin. She was in shock, her face burning hot as she glowered at the brazen menial who had just committed battery against her. She was already writing the lawsuit in her head, against him, the company he worked for, the Condo management company, and anyone else she could think of. She was going to destroy him. Then, she was going to make sure that the DA arrested the fucker and threw the entire fucking library at him.

She was about to start screaming and throw things at the piece of shit when she heard his words. Those words. Her Master's words. 'What? Him? No!' raced through her mind as she tried to deal with the changing reality of her world. She'd always been a strong, independent, woman. She had gone up against world-renown lawyers and had taken them down. Why couldn't she take this pathetic loser down? Why was she just standing there, instead of reacting to his despicable criminal behavior?

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

"Yes my beloved pet," he started. "I am Sir Sailé in the Utherverse and you, you are 0wn3d_5lu7, who wears my collar. I am disappointed that one who wears my collar would say such things about others. It's unacceptable! I will need to teach you how to treat and respect others or I will remove my collar from you," as he tugged at her choker, threatening to break it off.

I very obviously looked her over, like she was a piece of meat in a butcher shop. She was an attractive woman, nice tits, long legs, a good figure, and she had a very pretty face. Too bad her personality didn't match her looks. 'Well that's something I can fix,' I thought to myself as I reached out and pinched her erect nipples.

"I'll be back after my shift ends. You will be here waiting for me or I will make sure that your online activities and submissive nature become common knowledge among the members of Florida's Bar," I warned her as I turned on my heels and left before she could say anything. As I rode the elevator down, I began making plans to take control of my online slut, in person.

Arriving back at the security desk, the field supervisor of the day was waiting. "How'd it go Rick?" he asked.

"I think Ms. Raquel Piedmont will be a lot easier to handle going forward," I told him. 'Her attitude is going to change drastically," I told myself as he began to show me the upcoming security upgrades.

( ¥ ) ( ¥ ) ( ¥ )

As the rent a cop left, she let out a strangled scream, not believing the turn her life had just taken. Standing there, with her fists clenched, she decided to take a shower, hoping to wash away her anger. As the water ran over her naked body, she considered her options. She could call his boss, get him fired and sue them for every dime, perhaps even have him charged with sexual battery. The only downside was that a long, drawn-out, court case would reveal her submissive nature and sexual predilections, something that other lawyers would use to their advantage.

She could try to pay him off. She had money and he didn't even own a car. Maybe if she bought him one of those 'spic-mobiles,' the car with a pick-up bed, maybe even one of the dumb-ass bouncy ones with small tires, that seemed so popular. What were they called... El Camino.. she recalled from the deep dark recesses of her memory. Get the stupid bastard one of those and he'd be too busy showing it off to all his drunken, wetback, buddies while they drank Coronas outside a Bodega. He would forget all about her.

As she washed her body, she felt her anger melting. She had a foolproof plan. There was no way that he would refuse. She would even add some cash on top of the car and maybe even give up some of her frequent flyer miles to let him go visit his family back in, whatever shithole of a banana republic, he came from. She would just have to type up an ironclad, Non-Disclosure Agreement with seriously stiff penalties if he ever revealed her secret.

As her hands washed her body, she started to fondle her naked, wet, soapy breasts. Her other hand slipped down her taut stomach, feeling the firm skin from her Tae-Bo and Yoga classes. She remembered when she told her Master how she'd started to put on a little weight from working in an office all day. He'd ordered her to start exercising, to stay in shape. She was proud of how fit she was and it was because of him. She would never have started exercising if he hadn't made her.