Virtual Love or Lust?

By Jim Lyon

A closet wannabe submissive for longer than I care to admit, I lurked on several BDSM streams for upwards of a year–morbidly fascinated with the discussions taking place but never emboldened to participate. One night while hovering in the shadows I stumbled upon a reference to a new option available on the 2051 edition of a virtual reality program that allowed users to experience their D/s fantasies from the perspective of either a top or a bottom. That really piqued my interest because if the new feature of that VR program actually worked, I could explore my submissive cravings privately and without putting myself at risk in any way.

After shouting to nobody in particular, “Where do I sign up?” I doggedly followed every lead I could find until eventually discovering to my chagrin that the program was readily available on Amazon. So of course I ordered it with the D/s upgrade immediately; this was the opportunity of a lifetime and a dream come true all in one. Three days later my heart fluttered when I came home from work and found a package with an Amazon logo on it waiting for me.

When I opened it, the contents included a fully loaded 400 GB thumb drive, a Bluetooth ear bud, Google glass contact lenses, a lifetime supply of stick-on sensors, and several body cavity probes. Even a tech-troglodyte like me knew it was a given that the components of this ingeniously decadent invention interfaced via Wi-Fi.

I spent that evening and the next hunkered down with my all-purpose communication tablet filling out questionnaires, taking a lengthy personality test, and inputting data regarding my interest in, experience with, and knowledge of every imaginable fetish. One particularly titillating assessment involved viewing a seemingly endless array of provocative images and short videos while wearing the sensors and probes. Collectively these various activities were programming the virtual D/s software to cater to my unique sexual predilections and sensibilities. I was in an absolute dither by the time I was finished with those preparations, eager to submit to a virtual dom and experience my naughtiest fantasies in vivid three dimensional glory.

The manufacturer’s instructions suggested that I use a low intensity setting and short duration for my first virtual adventure. Figuring it was probably good advice, I did just that. After attaching sensors to all the recommended locations on my body–including the tip of my clitoris and each of my nipples–and inserting one probe in my pussy and another in my ass, I donned the ear bud and lenses then pushed the start button and waited expectantly for my submissive journey to begin.

One second I was seeing my bedroom through the lenses and the next a familiar looking office that I couldn’t quite recognize until I heard the voice of my college chemistry professor say, “Alice, I might be persuaded to change your D grade to a B if you’d be willing to do me a little favor.”

“What sort of favor?” I asked, looking at a sinister manifestation of Professor Wilson that I didn’t recall ever seeing before.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to see you naked and kneeling at my feet. Would you mind doing that for me?” he replied in the most innocent sounding manner.

It was at this point that the exploring my submissive fantasies aspect of the virtual D/s program really kicked in. I could feel my face become warm as a blush crept up from my neck. Oddly, I also noticed a quiver in my pussy as I saw in my mind an image of myself doing exactly what he asked.

“And if I do that for you you’ll raise my grade to a B?” I asked incredulously.

“I’m afraid that will only earn you a C. But there is a second favor that you can do for me that will get you that B,” he responded in the same calm, matter-of-fact fashion.

Having to ask what that other humiliating “favor” he wanted was caused another disquieting twitch between my legs.

“What do I need to do to get a B, Professor Wilson?” finally blurted out of my mouth.

An uncharacteristically evil smile appeared on the fantasy version of his face as he savored the moment before replying, “While you’re kneeling there naked, all you have to do is unzip my pants, take my cock out then suck it like the little whore that you are.”

Another unsettling jolt zinged through my pussy as his words sank in.

“You do know how to suck a cock, don’t you?” he asked sarcastically.

I nodded to indicate that I did indeed know how to suck a cock.

“So…what’s it going to be, a D, a C, or a B?” he pressed.

Inexplicably I heard myself ask, “Is there an A option?”

Professor Wilson guffawed loudly.

“Now that we know what you are, let’s talk price, huh?” he jeered.

“Precisely,” I retorted, my demeanor suddenly morphing from an innocent school girl to a street-wise hooker.

Professor Wilson stroked his chin as he considered what perversity he could extract from me in exchange for an A. An idea finally came to him and he gazed into my eyes intently as he presented his offer: “An over the knee bare butt spanking with a paddle.”

“We’ve got a deal, professor,” I said, and slowly began unbuttoning my blouse, licking my lips in an exaggerated sultry fashion while returning his intense gaze. When the final button was released I pulled the tails of my blouse from my skirt with a dramatic flourish, then dipped one shoulder and let gravity drag it off my body to the floor. Without fanfare I unhooked my bra and wiggled out of it until it fell into my hands. I twirled it above my head briefly before tossing it on top of my blouse.

Affecting an amateurish bump and grind, I shook my breasts at Professor Wilson while unbuttoning my skirt and shimmying out of it, finally letting it join the other garments on the floor. Then ever so slowly I peeled my panties down and off, finally standing naked save my shoes, which I then stepped out of. I winked at the professor provocatively as I dropped down to my knees and began unzipping his pants.

In true fantasy fashion his cock was rock hard and enormous. With shocking wantonness, I hoovered that monster down my throat like a professional. And with porn star vigor, Professor Wilson began fucking my mouth without regard for my ability to accommodate his huge member. The fantasy me relished the degrading scenario I was engaging in and somehow derived pleasure from letting Professor Wilson force his fat sausage of a cock down my throat. Of course, when he finally filled my mouth with his cum, I slurped down every last drop like it was ambrosia and reveled in being given the privilege to do so.

Seamlessly the scenario segued to one in which I was lying across Professor Wilson’s lap, his arm was poised above me and he held an outsize paddle in his hand. Without warning he brought that paddle down upon my ass with surprising velocity, sending a burning pain through my backside that managed to trigger an amazing electric thrill in my clit. Possessing stamina inconsistent with the real life professor, the fantasy version of him continued raining down blows from the paddle until my ass was bruised and sore, my swollen clit aching with arousal. Sadly, the timer ended the session before my lust could be sated.

***

Although my initial virtual fantasy was somewhat clichéd, and fairly tame as far as D/s scenarios go, it was exhilarating and whetted my appetite for more. I had, after all, set the intensity level on low so the experience was the equivalent of dipping my toe into the dark murky pool of my libido. I knew perfectly well that danger and unspeakable naughtiness awaited me in the deep water but I was determined to find a way to get there. Like a kid with a new toy, I was eager to play with it again right away. Since I had not yet removed any of the gear, all I needed to do was adjust the setting, push the start button and wait.

Momentarily I found myself in an ashram participating in a naked yoga class where I was the only female, surrounded by eight Adonis look-alikes. I was leisurely enjoying the subtle erotic ambience of the scenario when the no-nonsense female instructor called out, “Downward-facing dog,” and I automatically assumed the position. While I held the strenuous pose she came up behind me and slathered lubricant on my anus before easing a large butt plug inside my rectum. In classic sexual fantasy fashion, I wasn’t the slightest bit surprised or shocked by her actions. Instead, I felt a warm glow comprised of equal parts humiliation and arousal spread through my loins.

As if it had been rehearsed two of the yogis came over to me, one in front and the other in back. Nearly instantaneously I was sucking a cock of considerable size while my ass and pussy were being flogged lightly. The submissiveness I felt as this unfolded was exquisite and all consuming. Increasingly the flogger’s blows intensified and began concentrating on my pussy, primarily my clit–the pleasure-pain this engendered exceeded any sexual sensation I had ever experienced. Before long I could feel an epic orgasm creeping up on me and when it finally arrived it seemed as if I would lose consciousness as its powerful energy coursed through me. Curiously, through it all I managed to hold the asana in perfect form.

In typical fantasy mode the ashram morphed into a fitness studio where I was running naked on a treadmill with dueling vibrators in my pussy and ass while a buff and vaguely scary trainer kept increasing the speed and barking at me to go faster. To encourage me he began whipping my ass with a riding crop, repeatedly threatening to whip me harder if I didn’t keep pace with the treadmill. Between the pleasures generated by the vibrators and the pain from the crop a perverse hunger I had never experienced before emerged from my nether region and started to spread through my body in all directions.

Miraculously, I managed to continue running and maintain my stride despite the darkly erotic reactions of my body to the conflicting stimuli. Just as I became acclimated to the steady strokes on my ass the trainer began alternating the blows between my butt and my breasts, and soon angry red welts were visible on my tits as well as my rear. Eventually I was running at maximum speed, my body on fire from the increasingly harsh whip strokes, sweating profusely and gasping for air, when a single sharp snap of the crop to my clit brought on a paralyzing orgasm that took my breath away and caused me to stumble off the treadmill then collapse in a pile on the floor. As I lay there recuperating the fantasy timed out and suddenly I was looking at myself in the reflection of my bedroom mirror, marveling at the lack of evidence of that intense experience on my body.

***

Though my second virtual fantasy barely tapped the vast reservoir of depraved urges I knew lurked somewhere in my psyche, I was feeling pretty good about my virtual D/s purchase. Finally I was proactively exploring my submissive desires rather than being a voyeur of sorts living on the periphery of the kink community. With high expectations and enthusiasm, the next night I dialed up a virtual adventure with a substantial increase in intensity and length.

I soon found myself sitting in front of a vanity, naked except for a slave collar and wrist and ankle cuffs. A similarly attired Asian woman, whose body was devoid of hair, was preparing me for a slave auction at Club Noir. She carefully brushed my hair into an alluring coiffure then proceeded to attend to my makeup, including subtle accents to my nipples and labium. As a final touch to my presentation for potential buyers, my beautician wrote the number 5 on my abdomen with a thick black marker, tall and wide enough to be readable from a distance. When she was done I could hardly recognize the woman staring back at me from the mirror–I looked pretty damn hot and kinky as hell!

My vain indulgence was cut short and I was led to a stage where the other submissives to be auctioned off were standing, each illuminated by a small spot light. This was not a sordid auction hosted by human traffickers; rather it was one where sexual submissives of both sexes volunteered themselves to be sold to masters or mistresses with complementary sensibilities. A portion of the proceeds from the auction covered the cost to the club; the remainder was put into a trust for the submissives. There were no newbies or innocents recently snatched off the streets here, consenting adults only, all with an appetite for the dark pleasures. While a bit offbeat, it was definitely a very civilized affair.

Before long a tall and slender blonde woman dressed in a tuxedo arrived to emcee the event. One by one she extolled the virtues and personal histories of the slaves up for auction, punctuating her remarks by physically demonstrating the size and degree of accessibility of each orifice, and running a hand over individual slave’s breasts and genitalia. When she bade me to bend over so she could show how relaxed my sphincter was by penetrating me with two fingers, I shivered as a wave of submission washed through me.

I had expected that there would be a loud and spirited bidding process, but the auction was done electronically. After standing under my spotlight for perhaps twenty minutes, unable to even see an outline of the audience while the emcee orchestrated the silent bidding process, I was led backstage to meet my new owner.

The fantasy then fast-forwarded to my new home, where I was engaged in a scene with Master Jim, a classically handsome, muscular and mysterious specimen of fantasy masculinity that caused my loins to dampen whenever I looked at him. I was suspended face up by an invisible force, my arms and legs spread wide apart. A remote-controlled flogger roamed over my body inflicting vicious blows as it went, all of which I welcomed enthusiastically. And while the leather tendrils left a trail of welts elsewhere, the quietly forceful dom tormented the tender flesh of my nipples and pussy with harsh pinches and slaps. My extreme arousal from this rough treatment was apparent by my glistening labium and weeping vagina.

With a simple voice command Master Jim increased the severity of the flogger’s blows. Simultaneous to the escalated strokes, he began working his hand inside my pussy until it was completely enveloped. After closing his hand into a fist, he gradually eased himself into my womb until his arm was elbow deep. It was like giving birth, so intense were the sensations this intrusion engendered. And yet it was also perversely pleasurable, so much so that it nearly caused me to orgasm shamelessly–I desperately resisted since I had not been given permission for that privilege.

I had to redouble my effort to avoid climaxing when my wonderfully wicked owner began to piston his fist inside my distended cavity with ever increasing speed. I was so consumed with the aftershocks that radiated throughout my loins following each thrust that my eyes glazed over and guttural growls involuntarily escaped my lips. No longer was I an intelligent being I was reduced to a nexus of pleasure and pain with no awareness beyond the sensations generated by the pounding fist inside me. Finally a faint whisper in my ear managed to insinuate itself into my parietal lobe: “Cum for me now, Alice.” That was when the avalanche of sensations and emotions came crashing down. My entire world became a blinding white light…then fiery red…and eventually darkness prevailed.

***

It took me a few days to process that dark and erotic episode of virtual submission. Without question it had been the most intense sexual experience of my life. Perhaps what gave me pause the most was acknowledging that as intense as that fantasy had been, I wanted more–a lot more! The genie was definitely out of the bottle and I had no interest in putting it back inside.

What’s more, I realized that all of the virtual sexual liaisons I experienced were much more fulfilling than any real life ones I had thus far engaged in, or likely ever would given my extreme introversion and lack of social skills. It was at this point that I started contemplating a permanent and exclusive relationship with this virtual lover that could satisfy all of my sexual needs regardless of how perverse or outré. That train of thought inspired in me a resolve to discover how decadent my fantasies could get, so flinging caution to the wind I initiated a virtual D/s fantasy session at the highest possible setting.

***

When I arrived for my appointment with Madame Hillary at Discreet Introductions, Inc., the receptionist knew without being told that I was a hardcore submissive. After barely a glance at me she matter-of-factly told me to strip then stand in the corner facing the wall until I was called. Following her instructions was deliciously humiliating and arousing, my clit throbbed relentlessly while the rest of my body tingled with excitement and anticipation.

As I stood with my nose touching the wall awaiting my summons, the state of deep submission and humiliation that consumed me was exacerbated by a steady stream of people coming and going seemingly without even noticing my presence. Soon shame was added to the witches brew when my arousal became obvious as rivulets of fluid issued from my pussy and ran down my legs. By the time the receptionist said, “Follow me, slave,” I was desperately horny and eager to place my fate into the hands of Madame Hillary.

Madame Hillary’s office had a command center ambience. One entire wall was covered with a bank of large flat-screened monitors, one of which displayed a live feed of a prospective suitor. Another monitor showed a real-time crystal clear image of me au naturel. Presumably that feed was also visible to the intense thirty-something dominant whose scrutiny made me hyperaware that I could be on the verge of attaining my long-held goal of permanent sexual submission to a sublimely kinky lover. I suddenly felt giddy and my knees started to tremble.

Simply by pointing to the floor Madame Hillary communicated that I was to get on my knees with my head down and my ass sticking up facing the camera. In this position my generously dilated anus was clearly visible to the man on the monitor, who I hoped would find it to his liking. When an enormous remote controlled dildo slid into my rectum without resistance I shivered slightly, enjoying the fullness inside me as well as an exhibitionistic thrill from publicly exposing my wanton depravity.

Immediately after the disembodied phallus began thrusting in and out of my ass, a remotely operated flogger started whipping me, alternating its focus between my butt and my pussy. I couldn’t hold back a distressed groan when the flogger’s tendrils landed full force on my clit the first time. Truthfully, I became so absorbed with experiencing that combination of intense stimuli for a while I forgot where I was, who was looking on and even my reason for being in Madame Hillary’s office. The concentrated pleasure-pain continued to build and I was a hairsbreadth away from an exquisitely nasty orgasm when both devices abruptly stopped, leaving me whimpering and twitching while my body underwent withdrawal. As the dildo removed itself from my rear passage, Madame Hillary gave me the thumbs-up sign. Apparently Master Richard liked my audition.

***

The fantasy took a brief time-out then resumed with a scene where I was being prepared for my ponygirl debut. A groom led me to a stall where Master Richard was waiting so I could present myself to him in full dressage gear. In addition to the bridle and a full body harness, a horsetail protruded from a substantial butt plug seated in my rectum. My hair was coiffed to resemble a horse’s mane; any extraneous hair had been removed permanently with a laser. Both my hands and feet were clad with amazingly realistic prosthetic hooves that completed the illusion of a human pony. A more subtle embellishment of my transformation, however, was Master Richard’s brand on my left buttock.