|
DarkLight1961 -> Fallen Angel....a journey Chapter 1 (4/19/2012 2:37:12 PM)
|
Angel
She lay on the floor, holding the man next to her tightly. Her breathing had subsided to a quiet whisper, but her body still sang with the feelings she had experienced and every orifice she possessed felt bruised and tender. She looked down at him, and found he was looking back, his dark eyes searching her face, a smile on his lips. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was hoarse, dry, and by the time she had cleared her throat his finger had touched her lips.
“Shhhhhh my little one” he said “be still”,
and he had drawn her down against his chest. She pressed herself against the hairs, listened to the steady thump of his heart, and let the previous days wash over her again………
Nicole Cannock would describe herself as a typical single mum. Her child’s father had disappeared into the ether when he was two, and with the help of her close family she had managed to keep a roof over their heads. Her friends would describe her as attractive, vivacious, sensible and caring; but the Nicole they knew was not the whole person as there was a side of her well hidden from public scrutiny. In her mid twenties she had stumbled upon something that changed her forever…the Internet…and a movement thereon that altered her concept of her sexuality to one that she knew none of them would understand or approve. Now, at 31, she found that the feelings this movement had started within her needed to be explored deeper, and as she logged on into her favorite website one cool April evening her heart beat a little faster than usual, as she had decided that tonight she would push the boundaries a lot further……
Douglas Vaughan loosened his tie, swiveled his large leather chair to one side and lifted his feet onto his desk. He casually clicked the mouse in his right hand so that his computer highlighted his “favorites”, the websites he had saved in case he wished to visit them again. As his oldest favorite site sprang into view his eyes flicked to the door of his office; the staff had all gone, and yes he had locked the main doors…he didn’t wish to be disturbed as he was in the mood to play. Der Unterworld (the name had amused him at first) greeted him like a long-lost son, accepting his password and taking him to his home page where he slowly scrolled down the latest mails and messages. He recognised most of the names of the people (mainly women) who had contacted him, those he didn’t he quickly searched to see if there was a picture of them available just in case one of them appealed to him. He had been visiting this site for years, at first from out of curiosity, and then after he had become adept at the rules and protocol out of necessity…it was his sexual outlet.
He sighed when he had finished his reading, there being no-one of interest, so he entered the chat room headed “Pain” and acknowledged all the greetings as his pseudonym was recognised and welcomed. He sat back in his chair, wondering what excitement, if any, tonight would bring……
Nicole browsed through the chat rooms, greeting those she knew, giving the right response to those she didn’t, and ignoring the ones who were downright rude. The other “subs” on the site called these last pests “Trolls”, and they were derided for their lack of tact and diplomacy as much as for their lack of manners.
“Hey mystery-angel…wanna fuck you little bitch?”
She highlighted the culprit, some guy in California, and added him to her “ignore” list. She had put a lot of thought into whether she should put a picture of herself on her home page, but decided she wasn’t going to hide behind her “mystery-angel” identity so chose one that she liked, held her breath, and was amazed at the sudden onrush of mail it produced. After sorting through the mostly explicit replies she had gained a few friends in the chat rooms, both male and female, and had quickly settled into the role of obedient submissive. She had served a few Doms online, earning the reputation of a subbie who was well trained though a little feisty, and maybe a little out of reach to those who wanted her to meet them in the real world so they could “teach” her. Her one real-time experience had put her off, the Master she had served online for over a year insisting that they meet; him flying all the way over from New York, booking a room in one of the most expensive hotels in London, she traveling down to meet him, and upon setting eyes on him realized the pictures he had sent her of “himself” had been awfully flattering. She feigned illness and left as fast as she could, causing a bit of a ruckus within the chat room she frequented as he had vented his anger at her in no uncertain terms, but her friends had rallied round and it soon blew over. That was two years ago, and if the right One came along she knew she would be tempted to try again…
She had just returned to her computer after brewing a strong coffee when she noticed she had new mail. She clicked it open and started to read….
“You have My attention mystery-angel, and large amounts of My interest. I think you would be satisfying to know. Keep those pretty eyes peeled for Me within the rooms’ lady as I will be watching for you.”
DL x
She read the message three times. It was a hell of a lot shorter than most, didn’t give much away, and she certainly didn’t know a “DL”! She clicked on his profile, recognizing instantly he was one of the old school, been here for years, not really taking much notice of his picture until after she had read how he described himself. She enlarged his image, studied it closely. He was a big guy, and looked a little younger than his admitted 46 years (she put that down to his shaved head giving him an almost boyish quality) but his dark eyes gave clues to what was underneath that exterior, and she felt a chill (or was it a twitch?) while she sat there, wondering whether to reply or not. He had been polite enough, and her curiosity as to his reasons (apart from the usual) made her open her mail box and type a return.
“Thank you for your interest Sir, this one is flattered.”
She clicked on the little box next to the message board and selected her usual icon of a smiley face winking, added it to the message, and pressed send. A message instantly appeared in her inbox.
“Bloody hell, that was quick!”
She chuckled as she opened it, but it was from a friend in London.
“Hiya Nics you missed a great show last night passionflower performed on stage with BrutalMaster boy did he beat her good she was limping all the way home but happy talk soon babe crystal.”
Nicole laughed at the way Jenny (her real name) typed her messages exactly the way she spoke, like a machine gun with its trigger stuck! She had been tempted to go to that club in London, as she had always fancied dressing and parading in public. She had seen pictures of those kinds of places, and some of the outfits worn by BOTH sexes left little to the imagination. Making a mental note to keep an eye out for “crystal” if she came online she returned to the general meet and greet in the chat room.
She was contemplating signing off and heading for bed when the “You have mail” flag appeared in the corner of her screen. With a yawn she clicked it open.
“The closing of one eye is a provocative gesture My little one, meaning different things in certain cultures that would get you into a whole heap of trouble. To aim that at One such as I could be your worst nightmare…or is that as intended? I shall keep an open mind on the matter, should you see Me in a room you have My permission to approach and talk. Do not be shy.”
DL x
She noted the use of the upper case M when he referred to himself, definite old school mannerisms that were dying out, but she liked the protocol and the way he spoke. He called her “My little one”, showing a proprietary ownership she wasn’t too happy with, but it also meant he was used to getting his own way, showed strength, and it attracted her. She opened his picture, studied it for a while and composed a possible reply in her mind, but a jaw-wrenching yawn made her say her goodbye’s to the chat room and head for bed. She lay there in the dark, in that comfortable state of near-sleep, a picture of a large man with a deep tan and shaved head floating through her subconscious.
Douglas Vaughan turned off his computer and headed out of his office. He was tired, the problems of the day (he had fired a guy for theft) weighing heavily on his brow. The fact that it had been very quiet online hadn’t been the boost he had been looking for, and on the drive home he wondered if he should change his tactics a little, be more approachable, maybe it would lead to what he needed.
“Ah well” he sighed to himself as he opened his front door. “As the lady said, tomorrow is another day…”
|
|
|
|
