I've written this story at the request of a fan. It is purely fiction. I want to give a prologue that quickly explains my attitude to the issues it raises. Certain things happen in this story that I would not want to happen in real life. In real life I believe in equality and consent. I have moral values. However, my mind is a safe playground for any fantasy I choose. If fantasies remain fantasies and do not become obsessions, they are safe. They are also exciting. Enough of that, you're here for my story.
The internet became part of my life from the moment my parents first taught me to use it. It opened up a world that was so much wider and more exciting than the real world that I spent my childhood living in. By the time that I was eighteen I had surfed and chatted for years. At eighteen, though, I was ready to take things further. In the long summer before I went away to university, my parents bought me my own computer. It was put in my room. I think it was their way of letting me know they trusted me. Before I had always had to use the family computer. I had known all the time that dad could check up on my browsing if he wanted to. Not that my parents are like that, they respect my privacy. It still held me back, though, knowing that if I had looked at something naughty there was a chance my dad might have found out. My parents would never have shouted at me about it, they would just have talked it through with me. They're reasonable and liberal people. Trouble is, I didn't want to have that discussion with them.
The computer in my room opened some doors that I had only been able to walk by in the past. Naturally I had, well, peeped through the keyholes of those doors in the past but I had never properly explored the rooms beyond. I'm not ashamed to say that those summer nights with my new computer were spent exploring every adult site I could find. I watched endless clips, flicked through image after image, chatted to people with fantasies and fetishes I had never imagined. I always remained safe and never revealed too much about myself. Most of the time I wouldn't dare to play when my parents were home but, luckily for me, they are bopth busy people, always travelling for work. My mum is heavily involved in social work and travels in this country and abroad. Dad is a financial consultant, disappearing all over the world whenever a company needs him. That leaves little me, the spoilt brat, home alone with my toys. Those hot summer evenings alone in the house were a time of intense pleasure and self-discovery.
Then came Libertine.
I met him in a chat room where I was constantly bombarded with requests for private chats from men with names like "roughdaddy" and "eightinchesoncam". Why did Libertine appeal to me? Mainly because he was so articulate and witty. He amused me. He was also incredibly frank. He never tried to pretend that he didn't want to talk about sex. From our first conversation we were discussing our desires and fantasies. The night we met we enjoyed a session of roleplay that was kinky enough to make me feel guilty the next morning. He liked to dominate and I liked to explore my submissive side. While he played our game he told me what to do in real life and I happily obeyed his instructions. I rub my clitoris, pushed fingers into myself and, eventually, used the handle of a hairbrush to fuck my arse. I had played with my anus in the past but it was Libertine who got me to go further than just play. I'll never forget rolling a condom down the unyielding plastic of that handle. Looking at it before I positioned it behind me and started to push against my already wet anus.
Within a week he had convinced me to share my MSN with him. I took very little prompting to buy a webcam. I remember feeling a thrill of guilt and pleasure as I brought it home and hid it in my desk draw. It wasn't until the house was empty that I dared to try it.
I saved it for Libertine. He was the only person I wanted to try it for. When he eventually came online, my throat constricted and my heart began to pound. He wasn't pushy. He didn't even ask about the cam. When I mentioned it, he seemed pleased but he didn't start begging me to turn it on. His coolness was what won my admiration. Other men were always begging for more and more. One picture was never enough. They always wanted more pictures, phone sex, my address, my body, a meeting. Libertine just wanted me to enjoy myself.
I had already seen his cock and his body on cam. He was far older than me. He said that he was fifty but he was in great shape for his age. Although I found it hard to judge things on the cam, his cock appeared huge. In my mind it was even larger, something to fear and desire at the same moment. He never showed his face. He said that it was more exciting to remain slightly anonymous. I agreed. In my mind he could be whoever I wanted him to be. All I needed was his body, his cock and his words on the screen.
As he guided me through installing my camera, I felt like I was a virgin again. I was about to enter a world that I didn't really understand. I thought I knew what I wanted but part of me wanted to switch of my computer and run downstairs. Needless to say, I didn't do that.
When the image first flicked into life, I felt more exposed that I had ever been. I was fully clothed but I felt naked. I hurriedly adjusted the cam so he could see as little of my room as possible. I kept the camera's eye on my breasts and body. I had lost weight recently and was proud of my new look. My tight t-shirt look good over my small, pert tits.
He told me that I looked great. We chatted about how it felt to be on cam. He didn't ask me to undress or make any innuendoes. He just chatted. The more we typed the more I was longing to show more of myself. I rubbed my hand across my breasts to see if he noticed. He did, of course. He said he wished he could do that. I asked if it turned him on. I asked if I should do it again. He said he would love that.
Within five minutes I was shirtless and braless. I played with my breasts, feeling like a porn star. He showed me his swelling erection and then took it out of his jeans. I watched in fascination as he stroked himself, knowing that I was the cause of his desire. My insides were hot with arousal and shame. I could feel how wet I was getting and I knew that this would go much further before the end.
I won't go into all the details, it would take too long. Anyway, that isn't the point of this story. You all know what happened in this part. Yes, of course my jeans and underwear came off. Of course I rubbed myself for him. I spread my lips, pushed two fingers deep into me. I gave him every view, every angle he asked for. Our conversation got filthier. At first I called him Master. By the end I was calling him Daddy. The fantasy got kinkier, more taboo. When he came, I was balancing precariously on my hairbrush handle, taking it deep into my arse. The mixture of pleasure and pain was so powerful that I managed to orgasm simultaneously with him.
He never asked to see my face.
When we had both recovered a little, he talked to me about our fantasy. He checked that it had not gone too far. I explained that the elements of rape and incest were taboos but that is partly what had turned me on. He told me that he wished he could come to me for real, sneaking into my house in the night. It was the first time he had ever crossed the line and mentioned meeting in real life. I politely told him that online was more than enough. He just said that it was enough for now. He told me that he wondered if we would want more in the future. I told him that nobody could know the future.
After some affectionate small talk, we both went offline. I had dreams that were vivid, erotic and bizarre. I had begun swimming in an ocean of desires that I had only ever watched from the shore.
