Decision Pt 01

I was confident. I'd been working in the trainee program for several months now, learning the printing company from the ground up, and now I'd been offered chance to train in the north-east part of the States, in a place I'd never been: Boston.

Boston! The location of countless publishing houses, the place where people came when they wanted to be authors. Finally I was going to actually live somewhere besides my hometown and residence for all twenty-three years of my life. Not that Colorado wasn't the most perfect state I'd been to, but how was I supposed to write characters of different backgrounds if I'd only lived in one place? I was thrilled to continue my training with the corporation in the north-east, while I continued writing on my days off.

And it was wonderful, for many weeks. Work was great. But ever since I was offered the position there, I'd had a thought lurking in the back of my mind: this is where

you

lived. The man with whom I comfortably conversed, free to talk as if I were anyone I wished, wanton and dangerous in the safety of anonymity.

We were finally proximally convenient, and only I knew it. Oh, I'd mentioned in passing that the possibility existed, but I didn't tell you that the offer finally came. I was too afraid of my own needs. The knowledge was in my hands that we could actually act out the fantasies we had constructed for months on end, the scenarios I could consent to virtually because I knew they wouldn't happen physically.

But what if they could?

A shudder wracked through me as I sat in the board meeting; I shouldn't have let my mind stray, but once they did, I couldn't stop thinking about the things you would say to me, black on white in the chat box. So confident, so certain -

I nearly laughed. If you were confident, it was only because it was embarrassingly clear that you owned me already. Somehow you could read between the lines of my responses, which I thought were candid and unattached, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before I craved the reality of what you offered me.

Ownership.

"Simon? Cecilia. Cecilia Simon, are you paying attention to the demands?"

I blinked up at my boss, trying to sort out which demands he was referring to, the consumer reports or the demands you left me earlier that day, which were to make myself cum in the bathroom at least twice that day before leaving work.

"Uh..." I licked my lips and glanced at the charts, attempting to find something quick to say but unable to recall the content of the conversation. "I'm sorry, I think I have allergies because my ears have been stuffy all day, could you repeat your last sentence?" Bullshit. Complete bull.

My face felt hot; I hated being wrong, feeling stupid. The embarrassment lasted all day and I couldn't make myself cum in the bathroom for the second time before leaving work. The longing for fulfillment stayed with me as I went back to my corporate-provided apartment, and I cursed that I let our little internet games interfere with my job, and that even though I was angry I still thought about telling you that I was actually within driving distance.

Just the thought made my heart begin to thrum more powerfully, and my chest actually heaved up and down as I nearly panted. I saw the woman next to me on the bus give me a curious look and took a couple deeps breaths until I was under control. But even then I fantasized.

I day-dreamed about you being at the apartment when I got there, already knowing somehow that I lived there now, if only temporarily. You were waiting, and you were cross that I didn't tell you, that you had to find out by coincidence. I dreamed you drew me across your knee, too quick for me to react, and began to smack my ass over my pencil skirt as you berated me for disobeying our agreement, that I would tell you if I was relocated. I wriggled and tried to roll off your lap but you trapped my legs under one of yours, pinned my neck down with one hand and unzipped my skirt with the other, pushing it down my legs but not completely off. With methodical strokes you resumed spanking me while my panties soaked -

And the bus stopped and I shook off my fantasies, giving my phone a quick glance. I could sign onto the chat room, just mention the possibility. Instead I put the phone in my purse and walked the remaining block and a half to the apartment, doing my best to think about anything else.

***

Three days passed and I was afraid to talk to you. I was afraid you'd know, just by reading between the lines, so I went silent, too convinced that our exchanges should remain impersonal. But each day I missed the fantasies, the role playing, the actual conversations about what our lives were like, the thrill of sharing common desires. So I finally did it.

Insides shaking I logged into the site, wondering if you were waiting for me. I sent you three words: 'I'm in Boston.' Instantly I wished I could take it back, regretting how I'd probably back out later, how I would have to flake out of any plans we made because I was too scared I would grow addicted to what you wanted to share with me. Take from me. It was maddening, waiting for your answer, so I closed the browser and made myself write instead.

Curiosity reached me several hours later, and with a nonchalance I was proud of I checked my messages. What I found put me in a tight spot. All your response said was an address and a time, and I knew it was up to me to show up. Unfortunately I had exactly an hour - ample time to decide, and I wished I had checked my inbox later.

Sorry

, I could say,

I read it too late.

The excuse sounded transparent.

With a huff, I ran a hand through my hair and leaned back in my chair. What would I do? Here was my opportunity. I pictured a continuance of my previous day-dream, the one where you were making marks on my ass with your hand, ceaselessly.

I imagined how it must feel - painful, occasionally. Annoying, probably, having each smack sting, never stopping; itchy, from the blood stirring under the skin. And completely delectable, knowing that it doesn't matter what I want. The thought of you possessing me with the punishment made my nipples perk up suddenly and deliciously.

I began to feel myself, stroking between my legs as I imagined you yanking down my panties and shoving your fingers in my wet pussy just to show that you can, you don't need permission, you aren't doing it for my pleasure. You give a few quick thrusts and then resume the hard whacks against my ass, my wetness on your hands leaving cool spots on my blazing skin.

Panting, alone in my chair, fingering myself, I made my decision.