It was another day in their on-line relationship. The young woman who had dared to live her dreams out in Erotic writing had become his friend. He had dared to be her friend, her helper, to lead her safely into the path of dreams and fantasies, to make them a reality in her world, but not to be shared in his. The mental stimulation was having an effect on him – in the best of ways, manifesting itself in tortuous and physical erections that he could not hide when he read her words. She was in his mind, and in his thoughts.
He looked at his wife, she smiled back at him. As far as she was concerned he was researching on-line for some family tree stuff, boring to her. He had a page open, ready to flick on, should she happen to get up from the sofa and glance down at him on the floor as he "surfed"
He was online with Amanda, emails flicking back and forth. Sometimes the wait for a reply was torture! Apart from vague descriptions they had mutually agreed to disclose, neither really knew what the other looked like, apart from age, height, hair colour. And that was fine. Anonymity spared either of them the blushes of real life, and whilst nt describing themselves as perfect, each was able to paint an ideal picture of the other in their minds, and after all, this was the joy of the imagination. No need for perfection, no need for advertising flawless models, just a safe, warm, comforting view of each partner in this, their Cyber world. He had turned off the volume, so that the "ping!" of incoming mail did not alert his wife or pique her interest.
Was she ready for the next step? He decided to take her hand, in the ether, and lead her through the next door……
Amanda – Do you Trust Me? - xx
He seemed to wait an age.
Sam – with all my heart – yours, Amanda.x
After pondering a while, and letting her maybe sweat a little – after all, they were perfect teases, perfect foils for each other as they stretched the boundaries of their games. He knew she was safely alone at home at the moment, her flat mate having gone out for the evening. It was nine pm, another Saturday and he was stuck in, his wife never wanting to go out to friends or for a drink, content to be a stay at home grannie.
You are alone at home? When will she return?xx
She will be back at eleven, she has to work tomorrow, ha ha! But not me! Amanda.x
That reply was rather quick! He rose from the floor and stretched, and ambled through to the kitchen to make a coffee, enjoying the cool clean air after the warmth snug of the coal fire.
He returned to the living room and settled back down. "How's it going?" his wife asked, her eyes never straying from the screen, another endless repeat of CSI playing, which she'd already seen, the Woman's Own on her knee open and unread. Was this the way he was meant to live out his life? No chance!
"Oh it's not bad, but I have to keep trying to search different ways, still looking for your mum's grandparents."
After she had nodded and drifted back into the flickering drama, he began to type.
Amanda – All you need to do is answer me Yes or No to the following. There is no "right" answer, only what you are comfortable with. Do you trust me? Do you have a digital camera? (Do not send me any pictures from this) Do you accept a dare? Will you follow each step as I ask? Are the curtains all drawn? Will you give me one hour of your life tonight? It will not harm you, and I hope it will enlighten you. Do you trust me? - Sam.xx
He put the laptop down, and finished his coffee. His wife had left the room, the door open, and a draft raising the flames from the coal and wood in the fire. He stared into the embers, imagining a blush on Amanda's cheeks as she read and digested that last email. This was a whole new world to him, and he was enjoying it. Over the past weeks, the outwardly shy and reserved Amanda had come to flower and blossom within their friendship, and her story writing had evolved well. Her fantasy wish to be an exhibitionist had bloomed, even pervading into her real life. She had told him that when shopping, she had bought knickers instead of panties, lingerie instead of underwear. He had no way to check, he had no wish to check, but the visions it gave him in his mind had caused him some rather painful and embarrassing erections!
She returned to the room, and installed herself back on the couch. Plain black trousers, cover-all jumper which hid (he knew) a T-shirt, cami top and blouse, and those thick woolly socks. He remembered when she used to wear stockings, and silk, and………but that was before she became a grannie. He returned to the laptop, saddened by the memories.
Sam – Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.No. Yes. And implicitly Yes. Yours, with wonder, Amanda.x
He smiled to himself. He could imagine the look on her face and possibly a slight sigh escape her lips as she read his reply. "
I am logging off
". He hit "Send".
+
Amanda felt her heart jump as she opened his reply. She didn't want to appear to eager, but she felt she couldn't help it, here she was, with the house empty and to herself, the Internet free, and able to email her Cyber love.
Her face fell, and she let a sigh escape her lips. She almost moaned. "
Amanda, I am logging off
" followed by the empty void below. With drooped shoulders, she scrolled down the screen, as she was always apt to with his emails.
Her heart leapt.
"Trust in me. You have an empty house. Preferably, go - run a bath, a shower will do, but a bath will be better. Your hair must be dry. Place your camera on a table. Set the timer. When you are naked, before your bath, take a photograph, head to toe. Print it out, and look at it while you bathe. Soak, be clean, be smooth. Don't forget the photo – do not leave it laying around, take it with you to the computer. Dry yourself. In 30 minutes I will log back on. You will be dressed. Your suspender belt, with American tan stockings, pink knickers with polka dots, your matching bra, a plain black skirt, a blouse (buttoned), and court shoes with a low heel. Take another photograph of yourself – dressed – and print it out. Be dressed when I log on. Have your digital camera ready – but you will NOT be sending me any pictures – and you will be rewarded. We will be done by 10:15, you will be safe, but you will be exhilaratingly drained – I hope.
Sam.xxx"
She logged off, and skipped through to the bathroom. As the bath began to fill, she laid out his choice of her clothes. She did wonder what part the camera would play, if she was not allowed to send him a picture (?). She took a photo of herself, naked, in the bathroom door, and hurried to print it out. She didn't like it, she looked awful, but he had said………. She poured oil into the water and stepped in, feeling the tension and aches soak away, to be replaced by a tingling, and a float of butterflies lifting in her tummy. Her legs were smooth – she had kept a secret from him this week, she had saved and paid the extra to have her legs waxed. She knew it would be worth it.
As she washed, she looked at the picture, and felt embarrassed. She hardly looked at herself dressing, so to actually look at herself naked, almost like a voyeur, she picked fault with every flaw that her eyes could see. It wasn't a flattering photo in any way, she looked to be just sad, she looked chubby to herself, weight had piled on, till she filled out. She sighed, then remembered her task. At least that took her mind off the plain frump staring at her, propped up between the taps. She washed, soaped, rinsed, and stepped out to dry, patting herself down with the warm fluffy towel from the radiator. As she closed her eyes, she felt her skin tingling with anticipation, excitement mounting within her at what he had in store for her. Padding through to her bedroom, the towel tightly wrapped over her bosom, she clutched the photo in her hand. Her clothes lay on the bed, and fleetingly she felt they wee mocking her.
The bra cupped her breasts as she closed the clasp behind her, and she began to shiver. Not with cold, but with a shivering excitement that grew threw her. The suspender belt on, she rolled up the tan stockings on her legs, the way they slid up her smooth skin felt almost like tiny little fingers tickling up to her thighs. The knickers cupped her mons, snugly fitting, and she knew they would not stay dry for long if he were to tease her. Stepping into the shoes, with the black skirt hugging her hips, and buttoning up the blouse, she made her way to the camera once more. She stood in the same doorway again, the flash making her jump. Quickly, she ran and printed it off, and while the printer chattered away, she logged back on. Should she email him? Would that look to keen? Would he punish her for it?
As she debated the pros and cons, her Inbox lit up – hardly daring to breathe, she opened it, it was from him……
"Trust in me. You have an empty house. What happens in the next hour stays between your four walls and my screen. Do you really trust me? Will you answer me honestly and do as I ask? Do I have your permission to start – are you ready to play the Game. Just answer Yes or No – no recriminations on your decision – it is totally up to you. With love. Sam.xx"
She caught her breath. This was it. She promised to herself that she would not fib in any way, and if he asked her anything – anything at all – no matter how intimate or inane, she would answer him. The way he worded his emails to her whenever they chatted, he always made sure that she knew she set the pace, she was, in effect, in charge. Weirdly, she wondered if she was being Dominant? But then again, she was always led by him. How she had altered since their first exchange of emails – it excited her. She pressed Send.
+
"Yes" It flashed up on his screen, and he smiled to himself. Let the game begin. He wondered how she would react to his questions. He watched the countdown in the corner of his screen, conscious that he could not let her be compromised. If she wanted anyone to know what the new Amanda was like, that was up to her. Till she was happy enough and confident enough to do that, he always kept her safe.
"I asked you to take a photograph before you cleaned yourself in the bathroom. I asked you to print it out and to look at it. Tell me what you saw……………..xx"
He felt sad as he read her reply, but knew it was necessary to build her up.
+
She blinked. How could he? He knew how she felt. She was chubby, she hated her body. She blinked again, wiping a small tear from the corner of her eye, and then shook herself. No. She had promised. Warts and all Sam? Is that what you want? You want to poke fun at me? She glared at the photo, on top of the second one, and began to type, she kept it third person, as, with an almost disinterested eye, she began.
