Pt 1 - Voice of Pleasure

Assume your Position - helpless

It's a Saturday, normalcy has caused life to become complacent. Another day of sitting on the couch, legs curled underneath you as your brain goes into auto mode and the television plays another mindless episode of something that has no ability to perk your interest.

Her phone opens all the usual apps to fight the boredom; Facebook, Instagram, TikTok but they continue the mindless drool of complacency. As the reels play, her mind and body scream for something, anything, to break the cycle.

A message appears on her phone with two simple words: "Play Time?"

It peaks her interest, what could it mean?

"Who is this?" She replies

"That doesn't matter. I asked you, are you interested in Play Time?"

"Ugh, Go away." She replies.

She sets her phone down and hears it buzz again and again, but she ignores it. Drifting back into the mindlessness of television. But as she sits on the couch she begins to realize that her legs are squeezing themselves together, her clit tingles and her body craves attention.

She picks up the phone and looks at the messages that have come through.

"I'm not going away, I'm what your body has been craving"

"Attention."

"Gratification."

"Your body wants what I can deliver."

"It's time to let go and give into your desires."

She turns on the couch and lays on her back, still squeezing her legs she attempts to shoo away the mystery person and deny her desire.

"Please leave me alone, I'm trying to relax." She retorts, hoping he will not persist.

"You may want to relax, but your body needs something to relax from. Let go of everything and give yourself to pleasure." He replies. "Turn your brain off and let your carnal desires be satisfied."

She throws her phone down onto her stomach, shaking her head in disgust of who would have the gall to send such a vulgar text. But the phone keeps buzzing and the vibrations are pushing down her stomach from her phone and ending at the tip of her clit. She picks up her phone again and reads."

"It's time to take a break from reality, give your body to me so you may enjoy the desires you so crave."

"Be a good girl and let me taste you, I know you're already wet."

"Recall to yourself how sweet the feeling of being stretched as a man enters inside of you."

"Be good enough and you can receive the rewards."

"Tell me you want to be a good girl."

As she reads the messages her hand travels over the top of her pants, teasing and tantalizing her clit and vulva. Performing circles over and over as she feels the heat of herself.

"WHO ARE YOU?" She demands. "WHY ARE YOU TEXTING ME?"

There is a long silence as she closes her eyes and her fingers continue to trace her own body. Her brain screams at her to stop with every connotation to end this senseless conversation. Her brain asks all of the various scenarios.

"This is a practical joke."

"Someone is just fucking with me."

"This person is probably a psycho."

But her body has separated from her brain, the break from the everyday routine is too intriguing.

Finally, a response comes; "I am what you need, I am what you desire, I AM THE ONE WHO IS GOING TO DELIVER THE SATISFACTION YOU NEED."

She shakes her head again, throwing her phone back onto her stomach.

"Who is this person and why does he think he is somebody to me?" She ponders in her mind.

The phone continues to buzz and her mind goes blank. Her hand has slid inside her pants without her realizing. She can feel the heat radiating from her skin, hotter and hotter as her hand pushes deep. She reaches her clit and with the lightest touch she sends a shockwave throughout her body. Her entire region is engulfed with blood, the nerves are on high alert. Every brush of touch against the skin amplifies into multitudes of sensation. She grabs her phone again, becoming more desperate to see what is said next.

"Be a good girl for me and tell me how wet she is."

"Tell me your need to feel a man, to feel controlled and dominated, to feel like a woman who is craved."

"Good girls need to admit their naughty desires."

"Good girls need to be rewarded."

Her body continues to take over as she strips her pants from her body, spreading her legs wide to allow herself maximum exposure. She teases herself as she reads the lines of text over and over. Repeatedly her brain attempts to interfere with the simple question.

"Why?"

Why was this having such an effect? Why was her body so desperately seeking attention? Why is this stranger having such an effect? Why does she need this so badly?

More questions come across her phone as she lays on her couch, nude from the waist down.

"Are you touching her?"

"How wet is she?"

"How does she taste?"

With the last question asked, her finger slides inside of herself. Her body reacts and grips around her finger. She slowly slides her finger in and out as she pushes her head into the armrest of the couch. Her other hand dashes under her shirt, pulling her bra out of the way and giving her access to her nipple. She twists her nipple lightly, she gives it a gentle tug and her two hands begin to work in unison. She pushes her body down onto her finger, thrusting deeper as she finds her orgasmic rhythm sliding in and out at the pace her body has become accustomed to. As her breath quickens, her muscles tighten and her body vibrates at its known frequency.

She orgasms, she feels a moment of relief as her body recovers. Then the last message comes to mind.

"How does she taste?"

She stares at her finger for a moment as it glistens. She sees herself through her eyes but has no control of her body and its functions. The finger raises up and comes towards her mouth. She outlines her lips with her finger and then licks her lips to taste a sample and before she realizes she is sucking every drop from her finger. The sweet taste covers her tongue as she sucks on her finger and realizes she craves another sensation. Her mouth misses the sensations of intimacy; kisses, tongues and mostly the feeling of a man throbbing inside her mouth.

Her finger retracts from her mouth and her hand reaches for her phone. Every instinct within her tells her to not read anymore. Her brain still locked in on the last message. She tries to fight the instinct but she loses her internal battle and her fingers reply.

"Sweet."

"Are you satisfied?" The mystery man asks.

"I'm good, thank you for asking." She replies.

"I did not ask if you were good, I'm asking are you satisfied. Have all of your desires been quenched? Does your body still crave the sensations of touch, perhaps even a little pain?"

She begins to type, wanting to tell the person to fuck off, to leave her alone but she has to be honest with herself, her desires are not quenched, she does still crave the sensation of touch and the idea of a little pain turns her on.

"Tell me, mystery person. What is it you want from me?" she asks.

"I want to give you what you most need." He claims.

"And what is it you believe I most need?" She asks the question and realizes her hands are shaking and she clenches her thighs together in anticipation of the answer.

"You need to be punished for your impure thoughts and activities, you need to have your body consumed by desire and lust, you need to satisfy your carnal instincts so you can return to your wholesome self."

His words feel like demands more than suggestions.

How can this mystery person so easily peer into her soul and have such insight? Nervously she decides to play along and hopefully discover who this person is.

"And how do you believe you are the one that can do all of these things?" She asks.

"Because I am the one that knows and can deliver." He states.

"Tell me what you would do then."

Her hands shake as she awaits to hear what he has to say. Her body is flush and warm, yet the goose bumps still race along her skin.

"I want you to go into your bedroom, you will go through your drawer and pull out all of your naughty toys and lay them on the bed. You will then place a blindfold across your eyes, bend over the bed and await my further instructions."

The words on the screen offer no ability to deny his intentions, they are not questions, they are not requests, they are directions of what to do.

"And if I do all of this, how would you even know where to come to? I don't even know you?" She asks, with her mind scurrying about in an attempt to discover the identity of the person.

"I told you, I know you. Now be a good girl and do as you're told. Send me a picture of your bed once you have laid out all of your toys."

She remains on the couch, giggling in an attempt to lessen her nerves. Why was she even playing along with these games? She didn't know anyone who would do this. Her brain begins to come alive, telling her why all of this is wrong and that she should stop the conversation and go about her day.

But the other voice within her begins to speak, the voice of craving, the voice of need and desire. The voice speaks and speaks, becoming louder and more dominant. Want, need, desire, cravings, indulgence all consume her.

Her body rises from the couch and walks into her room and then to her nightstand. She takes some of the toys out, the ones that are the least offensive to her ego, and places them on the bed. There lies a couple small vibrators and a rubber dildo. These are the toys she uses to knock the edge off and to suffice herself through another day.

She takes the picture and sends it, sitting on the edge of the bed she notices that she is only wearing a shirt and her bra is disheveled. She adjusts the bra and attempts to make herself more presentable as she peers across the room and sees herself in the mirror.

As she admires herself she sees the things the mystery person has written. She is a woman with needs and desires who feels greatly unsatisfied. She holds the camera up, taking another picture with her legs spread and the camera blocking her face in the reflection. For unknown reasons she sends this pic too.

"I'm waiting." She replies to him with a cocky tone.

"I'm very disappointed in you, you do not follow directions. I told you to put all of your toys on the bed. You have failed to follow directions and this requires you to suffer the consequences. Now be a good girl and do as you are told"

The boldness of his words entices her but her brain begins to ask questions. How does he know what toys she has? How does he know that this wasn't all of them? Most importantly, why was she doing anything this person said?

But she feels too far into the game to back away. She retrieves the remainder of the toys and throws her bottle of lubrication in with it to make sure he is pleased. The picture is taken, she sends it quickly and hopes for a quick response.

"Do you not know how to follow directions?" He responds

"That is everything, I swear, I don't have any others." She quickly replies, her hands shaking.

"How many times must I warn you? I know you, I know your desires. Since you did not follow directions, you must again be punished later. Now, be a good girl, go into your closet and retrieve your paddle and send me the pic."

Her brain screams.

"How could he know of that, how did he know exactly where it was?"

"Who the hell is this person texting her?"

She walks to her closet, opens the door and retrieves the paddle from under a stack of clothing. She hasn't seen this hunk of wood in years. It came from a time when she was first exploring herself and her own sexuality. She gazes upon the paddle and recollects the wincing pain that it caused, the shades of redness it caused upon her skin and the deep, dark orgasms it helped to rip through her body and soul. She reaches back with the paddle and gives her ass a slight tap and giggles from the way it sounds. Throwing the paddle on the bed she takes another picture and sends it away.

"Much better," the reply comes, followed by, "Now you're being a good girl for me"

She looks at the phone and shakes her head, wondering what she has gotten herself into. She sits on the edge of the bed again, gazing into the mirror she caresses herself. The sensations feel good but they are not what she wants, she needs to feel the touch of another person, to have her body craved, to feel her body being used.

"I need your body without restrictions, I want all of your clothing off and out of the way." The next text demands.

Her hands grasp the bottom of her shirt and pull it off over her head and then instinctively she unclasps her bra. Both items are thrown towards the corner of the room and then she leans back on the bed, continuing to look at herself in the mirror. She caresses her skin, she runs her fingers through her hair, she bites her lip as she teases her nipples and the entire time her brain is screaming. "What the fuck are you doing?" But the screams are muffled by her intrigue and desire.

"Done." She replies, letting the mystery person know she has complied.

"Now I need you to find a scarf, I need your eyes covered."

"I have a sleep mask, will that do, SIR?" Her reply is condescending as she attempts to maintain some type of control of the situation.

"I do not appreciate your tone, and your failure to follow directions is despicable. I told you to find a scarf, now do as you are told."

She digs through her closet and finds a soft scarf she always enjoyed wearing. She lays it on the bed and begins to take a picture but realizes that is not what was asked.

"I found one, it is on the bed, what do you want me to do next?" She asks.

"Good Girl, now wrap it around your eyes, lay back on bed."

She positions herself on the bed, her back up against the headboard, her knees bent up at an angle, her body quivers as she looks down and sees the scarf draped between her hands. Her brain scrambles to realign itself and to talk sense to her body but the war between the two is all but lost. The body needs what the body needs, and even more powerfully; the body craves what it craves.

Her hands reach up and the scarf approaches her eyes, she takes one final glimpse around the room, taking in all of the light before the darkness consumes her. With a deep breath she wraps the scarf around her head and secures it snugly. Her skin races with goosebumps as she accepts the helplessness of her situation. Her hands instinctively rub against her thighs in an attempt to smoothen her skin. She leans back and takes a deep breath, the lack of vision perks her other senses to a new height.

She can hear things she doesn't normally notice; the chirps of the birds outside, the humming of the refrigerator on the other side of her house and the ticking of the clock on the wall in the living room. But then there was something else, something that seemed to have been buried deep within her soul that was being unearthed. With each breath she can feel the sensations of her body that she must've ignored through the mundane existence of life. The cool air as it whispers against her skin makes her nipples harden and become more sensitive, the softness of the blanket underneath her providing a small amount of warmth and the electrical enjoy that is created when your fingertips lightly graze across one's own skin.

She can feel her body, she feels its need to be satisfied, to be taken, to feel helpless from being used and manhandled. As her mind wanders, her fingers find themselves on autopilot, returning to her clit and labia as she lightly caresses her womanhood, teasing it with the lightest of touch as she causes her own self to grin and bite her bottom lip.

As her mind begins to travel down the road of ecstasy with her fingers guiding the way, she is suddenly jolted back into reality as her phone begins to ring. Her hands scramble for the phone and her mind begins to contemplate explanations to whomever is calling.

Could it be her mother, calling to tell her about the sale at a store; or her sister, calling to spread the next bout of gossip? A million thoughts race through her head as she feels the disappointment of having her moment of bliss ruined by a damn phone call. What she doesn't realize is that she never attempted to remove the scarf. Her inner self wanted to do everything it was capable of doing to stay united with the new universe she has just discovered.

Her fingers fumble, and eventually she is able to locate the answer button as she quickly clears her throat and tries to smooth out her voice with a simple "Hello?"

"Did you leave the scarf on like a good girl?" The husky deep voice asks.

How quickly her mind races in an attempt to associate the voice with a memory from the past. Her brain runs through everyone she knows, like a rolodex, trying to match as the voice replayed in her mind over and over again. Person after person, she tried to compare and with each person she could not associate the voice with a face or name. Her legs push out in front of her, crossing at the ankles and squeezing her thighs. The frustration and elusiveness make her shiver and vibrate throughout.

"I asked you, did you take the scarf off?" the voice demands to be answer and shakes her out of her state of inquiry.

"Yes. No. I uh, I never took it off." She stammers as she answers, shaking her head from side to side as she tries to regain her sense of composure.

"MMMM.... good girl." The voice on the other end of the phone informs her. "Now tell me, what is it that you crave?"

Her mind and body engage in an internal war. This entire situation makes no sense. Why is she doing this, why is she allowing a stranger to ask these questions, and most importantly; why was she responding to him?

"I don't know...I just..." She has no vocabulary to answer the question. At least none that she is willing to use to explain, as she fights to maintain a smidgen, any amount of control.

"Reach out on the bed, first toy you find, grab it and tell me what you find."

The instructions roll off of his tongue as if this was a normal conversation.

She reaches out next to her, grabbing the first item she touches and holds it out in front of her as if she was back in a classroom and presenting her favorite toy for show and tell.

"Tell me what you have." The voice inquires.

"It's my small vibrator." She exclaims, as she continues to hold it out in front of her.

"Turn it on and let me hear it."

She obliges and the vibrating noise from the toy fills the room and echoes off of the walls.

"Now follow my instructions and do exactly as you're told."

The confidence in his voice removes all ability to retort, she feels like a helpless puppet with an unknown person pulling on the strings that control her movement.

"Bring the toy to your chest and let it lightly glide across, follow the curves of your breast and now around your nipples..."

Her lungs suck in air as she gasps at the sensations erupting through her body. Her nipples tighten and become sensitive to the point of pain as the vibrator sends shockwaves through them. She moans into the phone as she whispers out "Yes Sir".

His voice gives an approving "Mmmm," as he continues with her instructions.

"Now let that little toy work its way down, lightly across your stomach, circling around your navel...don't go too fast, make sure each and every nerve ending receives its proper attention."

The voice is so steady, never wavering, just steady confident instructions that she has no mental ability to resist against.

"Now as you continue down, you are not allowed to touch your clit. Do you understand?"

She nods her head to give her affirmation, but realizes he cannot see her after a subtle clearing of his throat through the phone.

"Yes...Yes I understand"

"Repeat the instructions back to me." He instructs.