Waiter, part 2

Kindra and
I had a monogamous relationship. She had firmly established that point when we
got together. It wasn’t a moral thing; she just needed monogamy to feel
comfortable and secure, she’d said. I had assented easily. Monogamy was all I
knew.

Yet here
was my girlfriend covertly giggling and texting some buff waiter from our
favorite restaurant.

Not some waiter. “His name’s Dax,” Kindra had scolded me the other day, before all
this started.

Though now
it was, “oh it’s just Yaz, she’s such a scandal queen,” whenever I asked what
all the giggling and blushing was about.

But that
damned waiter had told me exactly what his plans were. Like an idiot I agreed
to his “bet.” Kindra had given him her number right in front of me, though she tried
to hide it. According to the terms of the wager, I had to “look the other way”
and let this asshole “do what a man can.”

Just
thinking back on it burned me with shame. What was I doing upholding the terms
of such a shady bet, anyway? It probably had something to do with the thumping
of my heart and the sexual thrill I felt alongside the humiliation. Blerg.

Lately
Kindra seemed to be putting off sex with me. Too tired, too stressed. This
happens; it’s not a big deal. But lately I had been awakening in the night to
find Kindra lying with her back to me. One hand on her phone. The other between
her legs.

———————————

I didn’t
think they’d done anything more than text. …sext. There hadn’t’
been time. Probably. She was too busy with work and other obligations. It
wasn’t like her to shirk, either. She was too dedicated. Or was she dedicated to her affairs as well? The uncertainty was eating me. It was torture.
That’s why I think it was both relief and agony when she texted me to meet her
at the restaurant again one night. We didn’t normally eat out so regularly. It
must have been because of him. But perhaps at last I’d get some clue.

I arrived
and she was already there and seated. Unusual; normally she’d wait by the door.
Plus she was wearing a nice dress. Black, velvet, low-cut. Some makeup on
closer inspection. Alarm bells. She rarely dressed up. It was Wednesday. I
racked my mind for an overlooked special occasion, but of course there was
nothing. He was the special occasion. I grasped at the straw
anyway:

“Wow.
What’s the occasion?”

“Hmpf! I
can’t just wear nice things?” she teased. But there was a real edge of
annoyance to it.

“Kindra,
you take my breath away. You are looking even more beautiful than usual.”

I wish
I’d said that. No. It was him. Suddenly there, depositing glasses of water. She
blushed deeply.

“Thank you,
Dax,” she said, placing her hand on his forearm. Then turned her gaze to me, “Nice
to see someone knows how to deliver a compliment.” He left, pulling away from
her hand (which she didn’t remove) and I could swear he flashed me the most
triumphant grin for a half second.

“I said ‘wow’!”
I complained, weakly.

“Yes, you
are truly a Don Juan. What woman’s sense of romance wouldn’t be fulfilled with
such effusive praise?”

“Anyway,
since when are you two on a first name basis?”

“What, you
think Dax told me his name and I just left him hanging? We aren’t all social
inepts, unwilling to make friends.”

“Friends?
He asked for your number.”

She averted
her gaze awkwardly but continued, “well yes…but that doesn’t mean we can’t be
friends in time. If I couldn’t be friends with people who had sexual attraction
towards me I wouldn’t have any male friends at all.”

The
possibilities made my head spin. She had so many male friends. Mostly
male friends. I had never felt like a jealous person, but this was all so much,
so fast. For the first time I had real reason to be jealous.

“You’re
right, of course. I’m just being jealous.” I forced myself to say. “Ignore me.
It’s an unworthy emotion reeking of patriarchy.”

“Yes, it’s
certainly not like you,” she said, still not meeting my eyes. “But despite the
cave-manishness it’s sweet to see you all riled up.”

“Sadist,” I
managed to quip, trying to will joviality into my voice. She looked back up.

“Mmm, you
know it, baby. But also…a girl likes to be reminded that she matters to her
partner. You know? That she has options. Nothing like a little competition to
reignite those affections.”

“I thought
you were looking for friendship?” I said, my heart dropping into my stomach.

She blushed
and looked away again.

“You know
I’m teasing. I just mean that a little jealousy can be affirming. Maybe I like
seeing it in you?”

“I do love
you for your sadism, after all. But I thought that was all in the bedroom.
Guess I should expect a little extra-curricular torture?”

“Hmm,
perhaps.”

My heart
was racing a mile a minute. A cold sweat was dripping from my armpits. I
couldn’t keep up this calm facade.

“Well, I’m
going to the bathroom,” I said, practically race-walking away.

I splashed
cold water on my face and breathed slowly, trying to calm my nerves. It wasn’t
working. I started counting my breaths.

“She
dressed up for me, you know.”

I jumped
and spun around. It was him, of course.

“I was
surprised she agree to do that in front of you, so soon.”

I didn’t know
what to say. I felt a sinking sensation. My ears were burning.

“But I’m
glad she did. Half the fun for me is humiliating the boyfriend. Or husband.
Hell, sometimes even a son. Older women are great, you know? And nothing’s more
shameful for a young man than watching his mother flirt with some young guy;
maybe younger than he is. Too ashamed to stop her from cuckolding his own
father….

“Sorry, I
digress…. How old are you anyway?”

“Uhhh,” I
stalled, dazed.

“Answer me
when I ask you a question.”

“T-t-twenty
five.” What? I wasn’t a stutterer and I owed him nothing. But
I felt so nervous. I found myself looking down, ashamed, like Kindra had been
in front of me.

“Look at me
when I speak to you” he commanded, easily. I met his eyes. There was no anger.
Just confidence. And a boyish grin.

He went on.

“Kindra’s
twenty six. She told me. Good age for a woman. Young enough to have that
perfect, youthful body. Old enough to have maturity; experience, confidence, to
know what she wants. And to start to suspecting what she’s missing…

“I’m still
in high school, actually. I know, I know, I don’t look it. Swear I haven’t just
stayed back a dozen times. I was blessed with a muscular frame and learned some
sexual maturity early. I’m legal, though. Lucky for all these women who get a
real man with a teen boy’s stamina. Right?”

“Umm, uh, I
guess.”

“I suppose
you wouldn’t know. You were never like me. You’re a beta male.
Feminine, subservient. It’s obvious. You cemented your role the moment you
agreed to my wager. What an idiot. No real man would just watch as some guy hit
on his woman. You lost any opportunity you had to be an Alpha
right then. Not that you had much opportunity. But you could have at least
pretended. Maybe grown into it. But look at you, just standing there, silent,
hanging on my every word. This is your awakening.”

I was
boiling with rage inside. I didn’t know if I was more ashamed or pissed off at
his sexist nonsense. Yet I was also entranced.

“Now now, I
don’t mean this in some old school patriarchal way. There’s no right or wrong
in it. But it’s just true. Some folks are more naturally dominant. Others are
subservient, for whatever reason. It’s a thrill. I love humiliating betas like
you. It’s my role… And you love being ashamed and taking your natural place
at my feet. Whether you know it yet or not.”

My ears
must have been purple with hot shame. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t;
didn’t feel right disobeying him. And that just made it worse.

“Kneel.”

I stared at
him, dumb.

“It’s okay,
just take your place. You’ll love it. Now kneel.”

I found
myself kneeling. It just happened. And by now my shame was sharing a lot of
space with arousal.

“Good boy.”

Adrenaline
shot through me at his words. Then he unzipped his pants.

God. I hadn’t sucked a cock in years. I felt thrilled and sick. Did I
want this? Yes! I needed to suck his hard dick until it came inside my
hungry mouth…But also, no! I hated this completely, deep down in my core. I
felt gross, nauseated. And somehow, I felt guilty that I was about to break my
vow of monogamy to Kindra. How silly is that? She started this. Or did I…with
that stupid bet?

“Open your
mouth.”

I opened
wide, obediently, with no hesitation.

He put his
cock in my mouth.

“Close your
lips around it.”

I did. It
wasn’t erect. It felt warm and soft on my tongue and lips.

“Now make
sure to swallow.”

With that a
hot steam let loose in my mouth. It tasted a little acrid. Just a little.
Mostly it just tasted like warm water. Kinda nice, in a perverse way.

But it
didn’t let up. I had to
swallow, repeatedly. Gulp after gulp. On and on. Never opening my mouth or
spilling. It went on forever. How
much had he drunk? I felt like my
stomach was almost out of capacity. That any moment I would try to swallow but
it wouldn’t have anywhere to go and would overflow out of my mouth. All over my
clothes. Marking my shame clearly. God. I felt full. In every way.

“Aaand
that’s good,” he declared, pulling out from my pursed lips with a light pop. He
took hold of his flaccid penis and shook it over me. Warm drops dappled my
face.

“Okay,” he
said, zipping back up, “Now go out there and give your girlfriend a big kiss. A
deep one. Let her taste what a beta male should taste like. Like
whatever an Alpha decides to put in him.”

Full of
shame and confusion, I stood and approached the sink to wash the pee from my
face.

“No. Leave
it.”

I stared
back at him, aghast.

“Now now,
she won’t be able to tell. Not for certain. She’ll just have a vague sense of
what you are.”

I turned
and walked to the door.

“Oh and
don’t forget to keep pretending you don’t know about me and her. I’m gonna make
her my fuck doll right under your nose. And it’ll be more fun for her if she
thinks she’s sneaking around on you. All the thrill of lying and
betrayal.”

I thought I
had lost all of my pride, but something snapped in me and I turned back to him.

“She’ll
never be your ‘fuck doll.’ She, she, she’s an Alpha Female. More than a
match for you.”

He laughed,
heartily. “That’s so cute. You have no idea. Of course to a beta like you she’s
an Alpha. It’s natural for a person with any self respect to step on your neck.
It feels good; right. But like so many girlfriends of betas, she’s just waiting
to be brought to heel by a more dominant partner. To a man like me, she’s just
a bitch in need of training.”

“Fuck you!”
I spat. “You wish.”

“Listen,
Piss Boy!” he growled, wrapping his large hand around my slender neck and
slamming me against the wall. “Don’t take that tone with your betters!” He
glared deep into my eyes for a tense moment before relenting.

“I’ll let
it slide this once since you’re new to this role. But don’t think I’m afraid to
hurt you. A beta like you would cover up any bruises with excuses; too ashamed
to tell his girl the truth.

“Oh, and if
you need some convincing about where this is all headed, take a peek at Kindra’s
texts sometime. She’s already started to reveal her true colors… Bitch is
just waiting to be shown her place.”

He released
his grip. I slumped a little, almost falling. I was defeated. I was sick to my
stomach. Could it be true? I felt hot and cold in all the wrong ways. I
couldn’t stand up to him anymore.

I headed to
the door. Then his hand was on my head.

“Good boy.”
He ruffled my hair. “It’s a hard transition but you’ll get used to this in no
time. Just remember that you’re a beta male.”

With that I
opened the door and finally left. When I got back to the table, Kindra’s face
lit up with a big, loving smile.

“Hey
darling!” God. That made me feel amazing but also like garbage.
Amazing garbage.

I leaned
down and kissed her. Deeply. As we pulled apart her face twisted up in distaste
and confusion. Fuck.

She was
going to interrogate me. Demand to know why I tasted like piss. Call me Piss
Boy, just like he did. I was a Piss Boy. A beta male.
A loser…

But no. She
just shook her head and let the moment pass. Good. What was she
thinking, though? That I tasted like beta male? No no no, that’s was just his twisted
worldview. Nonsense. For a moment he had me believing. But no. It was
retrograde drivel. There wasn’t anything that innately made me need to submit
to him or anyone else. I wasn’t a beta male.

Beta male.
Beta…it
sounded…kinda nice. I’m a beta I said to myself and it sent a tingle down my
spine.

Waiter, part 1

impotentcollectionlove:

It had all started a few weeks earlier at our
favorite restaurant. I returned from the bathroom to find the new waiter bent
over the booth, talking close to Kindra. I interrupted him by sitting down and
he gave me a cold, calculating glance. Then he aimed a seductive smirk at my
girlfriend before walking away. I raised my eyebrows at Kindra.

“I think he thinks you’re my gay best friend,”
she whispered conspiratorially.

That wasn’t an unusual assumption. As a waifish,
androgynous, and a slightly effeminate guy, people seldom assumed my girlfriend
and I were dating before I said so. Perhaps not even after. It didn’t really
bother me. I had dated boys and sometimes I liked to wear skirts. I had no
shame about such things.

Nothing about the rest of the dinner was
unusual. Maybe the waiter gathered from our affectionate manners that we were a
couple after all.

We went back a few days later. We didn’t get
that waiter, but I saw him bussing tables. He kept glancing over. “Someone has
a crush,” I said to Kindra, teasingly.

“Too bad,” she sighed, “He’s kind of cute.”

“Really, you’d go for a guy like that?” I was
surprised. He was so masculine. Broad shoulders, short hair. Young. Maybe 19 to
my 25.

“If we weren’t dating? I probably would have
given him my number, at least.”

“He asked for your number?!”

“You came back before I had to come up with an
excuse.”

Jealousy burned in my chest. There was no need,
I told myself. Kindra had just expressed that she wasn’t interested in him
since we were dating. Rationality didn’t douse the fiery sensation, though.

I went to the bathroom to wash my hands before
eating. I heard the door open behind me and then a voice was speaking, “Hey,
you’re with Kindra, right?”

I hated talking to people in the bathroom, let
alone this jerk.

“Yeah.”

“I figured. I can’t understand it, but I
figured. Are you two monogamous?”

“Afraid so.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“So there’s doubt?”

“…not really.”

“Tell you what, I’ll do you a favor. Let’s make
a bet.”

“Not interested.”

“I’ll try to hit on her.”

“Not much of a bet.”

“You give me thirty seconds. If I can get her to
laugh, you give me an additional minute. If I can get her to let me put my hand
on her shoulder – without pushing it off – you give me two minutes longer. If I
can get her number, well… I’m in. You can’t try to stop me. You have to look
the other way. Let me do what a man can.”

“…still not much of a bet. What’s in it for
me?”

“Now that’s obvious. If she doesn’t give me her
number, you get the satisfaction of knowing she’s true. A rare certainty. My
gift to you.”

Nothing about this seemed like a good idea. It
was rude to Kindra and put me at risk with no real benefit. Yet something about
the jealousy burning in my chest pushed me on. That and a feeling of
schoolyard, boyish pride I would have assumed long dead. I needed to
prove this asshole wrong.

At some point in the conversation, he had
started using the urinal. So when I turned, I unexpectedly saw him on display.
He was standing back from the urinal, farther than usual, as if daring me to
look at his manhood. My eyes darted down of their own accord. His penis was
thick and large, though flaccid, and his stream was strong. An involuntary
shudder of desire ran through me.

“You’re on,” I said, extending my hand.

He finished up and took my hand in his unwashed
one. His grip was firm – but not in that childishly painful vice-grip way I
would have expected. Just a confident, manly handshake. It was strangely
humiliating and thrilling.

“Give me a head start. You can watch from behind
the potted plant without being seen. I wish you luck; you’ll need it.” He left,
without washing.

The was indeed a plant around the corner from
the bathrooms. I acted the voyeur, feeling foolish. He approached our table.
Kindra smiled brightly at him and they began chatting. This didn’t look good.
Then I realized I wasn’t timing them and scrambled to pull out my phone and
activate the stopwatch app.

Ten seconds later she was still maintaining eye
contact. Another fifteen seconds and she was smiling wider. I was about to walk
out and break it up, but just as I took my first step she was laughing. Not
just her polite laugh, either. It was genuine and full.

Fine. I looked down at my phone, noting the
time. What he was saying I couldn’t hear, but she kept laughing. The flames in
my chest were consuming me. Fifty seconds later he nonchalantly slipped his
hand down from the back of the booth to Kindra’s shoulder. It was smooth, I had
to admit. She tensed. Her eyes darted around. Looking for me, probably. But I
was apparently well hidden behind a screen of green leaves. Kindra’s shoulders
relaxed. She left his hand there.

My heart fluttered and I felt a stirring, lower
down. What the hell? I glanced at the stopwatch, nervously.

They kept chatting, smiling, giggling. His hand
squeezed her shoulder. She seemed to like it. Blerg. At the minute and a half
mark he pulled out a pen and leaned in toward her, inquiringly. Fuck!
What the hell had I been thinking?! This was crazy.

She took the pen and grabbed his free hand. The
first intimate gesture she had initiated… Kindra put the pen tip to his palm.
But then doubt crept across her face and she pushed his hand away. Giving the
pen back, she frowned and seemed to be apologizing.

Yes!

Confirming that the time had elapsed, I walked
over and sat down in the booth. I gave this busboy/waiter a smug smile. He
returned it, seemingly unperturbed, and walked off.

“He bothering you?” I asked Kindra, innocently
as I could.

“Nah. He’s sweet, actually. Kinda funny.”

“…if you say so.”

“Oh don’t be like that. Just because someone’s
not an obvious member of the queer, hipster elite you think they’re a Nazi.”

“Do not.”

“You totally do.”

“Fine, I’m sure the busboy is a gentle bunny.”

“Dax.”

“Hmm?”

“His name’s Dax.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the meal went without a hitch. I
felt weird, but Kindra seemed as bright and bubbly as ever. Maybe moreso. I
could see Dax lurking around; I tried to block him out.

Dax must have switched with our waiter because
he brought the bill. I usually paid since Kindra didn’t make very much. But
this time she grabbed up the paper with surprising speed. As she did so, I
could swear I saw a handwritten note at the bottom. She put her arm on the
table to write, blocking my view. I watched Kindra’s face instead. She bit her
lip and frowned before jotting down something extra. Then she quickly held her
credit card and the receipt paper aloft. That bastard came by immediately and
grabbed it. He gazed at the bill, smirked, and looked directly at me before
heading to the cash register. Did he just?

I glanced over, catching Dax on
his phone, typing away. Just then Kindra got a text. Reading the message, she
blushed.

That asshole! He’d
done it.

Kindra texted a little more. I confirmed
with my peripheral vision that there was correlation. Not much room for doubt.
He’d gotten her number. He’d won. I felt humiliation. But
also…arousal?

He came back with her card
and processed receipt. She tried to hide with her arm again, but I still saw
her fill in a substantial tip and draw a quick doodle of a winking kissy face
before turning the paper over. Really?! Right under my nose?

“You ready?” Kindra asked me, standing. My legs
were wobbly and nearly didn’t support me. But I managed. As we left, he waved
and said goodbye in the friendliest, most professional way possible. Yet Kindra
blushed even deeper in response. As I walked by, trailing behind my girlfriend,
he leaned in and whispered to me, “Remember, you have to look the other way. Loser.”

I burned.

Dangers of Snooping

alluringcompulsions:

Lauren waited silently in her room as she listened to the sounds that came from the kitchen. She could picture Cindy pouring her coffee into her to go cup before placing the milk back into the fridge. Any second now. Lauren thought. She was poised to act as soon as she knew that she was alone. She heard the door open, shut, and then lock. One, two, three, four, five. She opened the bedroom door and moved to the hallway listening carefully for the sound of the elevator. When it pinged at their floor she felt a jolt of pleasure and then a twinge of guilt as she thought that she was only waiting for Cindy to leave so that she could invade her privacy once again.

************************************

It had all started by accident. Lauren had been working on an assignment that had to be uploaded before midnight and her computer died at 11pm. There was no way she could get to another one in time and she called her roommate and had begged Cindy to let her use hers. Cindy had been hesitant, but she couldn’t think of any real excuse to let her friend fail.

Hearing her hesitancy, Lauren had remarked “Don’t worry. I’m not going to go looking through your search history, and looking at porn is nothing to be embarrassed about anyway because everyone does it. It’s probably why my computer just died.”

“No, it’s not that…never mind…yeah, you can use it, and get to it because you’re about to run out of time.”

Cindy gave Lauren the password to her laptop and Lauren thanked her profusely, telling her that she would do anything to make this up to her in the future. Cindy just had to ask.

Lauren was able to upload her assignment with a few minutes to spare and she finally had a chance to breath. It was like the last forty-five minutes there had been this enormous weight on top of her and the moment she hit “submit” it was lifted and she felt free. Next time I’m not going to wait until the last minute. She told herself, knowing it was a lie.

She thought back to Cindy’s initial hesitancy to let her use her computer and had a wicked thought to look around and see why. She didn’t have to look far, because sitting on the desktop was a folder marked “not porn”. She giggled to herself and wondered what sort of things Cindy saved to a folder on her desktop. Lauren opened the folder expecting to find pictures and videos, but at first glance, the title of the folder appeared to be accurate. There were nothing but text files all named after different women. There were only first names, but it seemed that Cindy was keeping files on all of her friends. This seems a little creepy. What sort of stuff is she writing about her friends? Is she some kind of undercover cop? No that’s ridiculous. She clicked on the first file named Amy and what popped up was a story about Cindy wanting to experiment with hypnosis with a girl from her psychology class in the hopes that it would help that girl, Amy, loosen up about experimenting in the bedroom.

Lauren exploded in a fit of giggles. Perfect little Cindy was writing lesbian fantasy porn about all of her friends. No wonder Cindy was hesitant to let her use the computer. Then Lauren felt bad because she had returned Cindy’s favor by betraying her confidence and snooping into her secrets. She closed the text file and was about to close the folder before she had another thought. Has she written about me?

She scrolled down and saw that there were four different files named Lauren. Does she know four different Laurens or does she just have a lot of fantasies about me? Only one way to figure it out. She opened the first story and instantly knew that it was about her. It talked about how they had just moved in together after getting an apartment in the city where they were both going to school. Cindy’s fantasies all seemed to involve some sort of mind control because this story was all about how she was using subliminal messages in the music that she played to turn Lauren into a horny bisexual plaything. There were long descriptions of how she would turn on her music and then listen for Lauren to start playing with herself over and over again. Ok, I just usually pick that time to get off because I thought that she wouldn’t be able to hear me with her music playing. I can’t believe that she has been listening to me while I do it. She kept reading as the story talked about how the music was slowly turning her tastes to be more open to women. To be aroused by women. To desire women. The taste, the smell, the feel of a woman. The way their slender fingers can touch and the way it feels to be buried in between their legs. The music was helping the Lauren in the story understand that these feelings and desires were perfectly natural. Of course they are. If Cindy only knew that I already felt this way…that her fantasy was already true. Well, not her whole fantasy. I’m fine being a little submissive, but I’m not going to turn into her sexual plaything.

The story concluded with a note from Cindy that Lauren was a long term project. Everything had to be perfect with her roommate so she didn’t want to screw anything up.

The Story had left her surprisingly turned on, and she wanted to read the second file, but she wouldn’t be able to explain to Cindy why she was still on her computer so long after uploading her assignment, so she made sure that everything that she had opened was closed and shut down Cindy’s computer.

Lauren realized how lucky she was as she heard Cindy’s keys in the front door. As Cindy walked into the apartment Lauren tried not to look guilty as they said their hellos.

It was late, but not really for a Friday night in the city when they had nothing to do the next day. Cindy pulled a joint out of her purse and shared it with Lauren by the window as they talked about their day and their plans for the next day. Cindy was going to be up and out all day, but Lauren was free until Monday.

They said their goodnights and went into their respective rooms and that’s when Lauren heard Cindy’s music faintly through the walls. Cindy always listened to music when she went to sleep, but it was always faint enough that Lauren had never complained. Tonight, though, she couldn’t help but listen and think of the story. She was still turned on from the story and feeling a little fuzzy from the joint she reached down to see just how wet she was only to be shocked as her fingers slid across her pussy and found it soaking through her panties. She quickly grabbed her ipad and moved to her bed where she brought up her favorite porn site. She thought about the story and about how hot the submissive lesbian fantasy had gotten her before pulling up videos of women dominating other women. One in particular jumped out at her. The dominant woman looked a lot like Cindy, and the submissive had the same brunette hair as Lauren. Lauren played the video as she touched herself and watched as the girl who looked like Cindy put the girl with brunette hair down on her back before she moved up to settle her pussy right on the brunette’s mouth. She watched as the girl who looked like Cindy sat on the brunette’s face while the brunette used her tongue on whatever was put in front of her. She licked her pussy, her ass, her clit, and by the end of it her face was soaked in arousal and when Lauren saw the look of arousal and acceptance in the brunette girl’s face she came harder than she could ever remember before passing out and falling into a deep sleep.

************************************

Once she was sure that Cindy was gone, Lauren ran over to her computer to read the next story that bore her name. She had until around 8pm to get through everything without getting caught. The second story involved mind control as well (I guess that’s her thing) and was all about Cindy drugging Lauren into compliance with a special joint laced with a powerful hypnotic. She described some new drug that could render Lauren completely open to suggestion and unable to deny anything that Cindy put into her head. The story focused on Cindy furthering the submission of Lauren by making it feel good to obey. Cindy whispered mantras of obedience into Lauren’s mind while assaulting her senses with the smell of her soiled panties held right beneath her nose. The story went on to describe Cindy breaking Lauren’s will before riding her face to orgasm after orgasm. Every time she came the smell would send Lauren deeper and deeper into submission and obedience.

As Lauren read this story she felt herself grow aroused and as a bit of a joke to play along she took a single finger and coated it in her arousal before sliding it across the top of her lip and reading the story again.

It felt even better to smell how aroused she was, and the story made her even hotter the second time around, but something still wasn’t right. She had a naughty thought and ran into Cindy’s room to look through her hamper. She didn’t have to look very hard because right on top were a pair of panties that looked perfect. She ran back to the computer and started the story over again from the beginning. At first she would raise the panties to take a whiff from time to time, but on her fifth time rereading the story she had them pressed tightly to her nose as she inhaled deeply and slowly.

She came before she realized that her other hand had been playing with her pussy the entire time, but that didn’t stop her hand. She kept toying with herself and taking deep breaths of her roommate’s wonderful fragrance and she slowly slipped down to the floor. Lying on her back she came over and over again playing out her roommate’s fantasy in her own head.

When she was finally sated she started to feel the shame of what she had done. She quickly put her roommate’s panties away and thought that this was yet another way she had invaded her privacy. What is wrong with me? Although, I bet if she knew I was doing this all day she wouldn’t really complain. I wonder if I should come onto her as a repayment for letting me use her computer the other night. I won’t be her little hypnoslave, but I would let her do whatever she wants to my body if she wants to take a dominant role. I wonder if there are any more clues in the stories that could help me successfully hook up with her.

She read the third story and it was the best one yet. She went back into her roommate’s room to grab the panties again and stopped to turn on the music she was always playing at night. As the sounds thumped through the apartment, she brought the panties to her nose and went back to the computer to read the story again. In this one Cindy was training a submissive Lauren how she was supposed to behave. She rewarded her with pleasure and punished her with pain as Lauren quickly learned to obey. As she read the story Lauren found herself acting out various different parts. She undressed like the Lauren in the story. She pretended that as her will was sapped from her mind, her knees would be drawn to the floor, and when Lauren fell to her knees in the story, so too did Lauren fall to her knees while reading it. She would discipline herself by spanking her naked ass when the Lauren in the story was too slow to obey, and she would feel the same rewards pulsing inside of her as she read the mantras from the story aloud.

She was so incredibly turned on as she knelt on the floor, naked in her own apartment reciting mantras of obedience to her roommate just like the girl in her fantasies. She wanted to touch herself again, but that wasn’t part of this story and she was having so much fun following the stories.

The fourth story confused her. This one was all about how Cindy had put a virus on Lauren’s computer that had slowly run in the background of whatever program she had open and hypnotized her over the last month. Lauren imagined herself staring slack jawed into the screen as Netflix played episode after episode of whatever tv show she was binge watching. The virus would then shut down Lauren’s computer and force her to use Cindy’s. Her subconscious would be programmed to look for Cindy’s stories and read every single one about herself. Each story would contain hidden triggers that would deepen her submission and start her descent into becoming perfect plaything. It told Lauren that reading this fourth story would complete her transformation into a helpless and obedient hypnoslave to her roommate. It would leave her aching to be owned and controlled by Cindy. It would leave her with no choice but to obey, and that in obedience she would find more pleasure than she could ever imagine. It told her that she would submit.

She read the story over and over again. She was still naked, on her knees and holding Cindy’s panties to her nose as she heard keys enter the lock to the front door. Lauren fought to break her gaze away from the computer screen and looked up at her roommate in both awe and confusion.

“Are you ready to submit?” Cindy asked as she quickly turned her dress into a belt at the sight of her roommate kneeling in submission to her.

“Yes Mistress.” Was the only reply in Lauren’s mind.

Nnngh.

Yowza. Roommate goals.

https://www.literotica.com/s/rebeccas-choice

“I realized the odds were that I’d be a flavour of the week. I realized
that the possibility of one day being married to this new guy was
completely remote. And then I realized that either way, I come out
ahead.

You see, if I’m just the flavour of the week, then the relationship will
have been meaningless. If I’m just the flavour of the week, what I get
is sex with a guy I’m drooling over, without any baggage.

On the other hand, if, however remote, there is the possibility that I’d
find him an even better guy than my husband (who I do love dearly in
spite of what you think), I could only find this out by going with him
now.

Either way, I’d be better off by following my sex urges over my heart.“

“So the winner tonight gets to call the shots from now on. If you win, and you can hold off cumming until Matt finishes, then you get to say when and how often I get to see Matt, if at all… . On the other hand, if you lose because you can’t control yourself, I get to see Matt as often as I want for as long as I want. And Matt gets to say when and how often you get to fuck me.”

I listened, unsure about the deal.

“You really have a big advantage,” Nikki said. “He’ll be fucking me. You’ll just be masturbating. So you have a lot more control. It’s really more of a matter of what you want deep down, isn’t it?”

……….

Nikki started encouraging me to cum. No, she was begging me to cum. She wanted me to cum because she wanted Matt more.

When I pointed that out, she whimpered, “Sorry sweetie, we’re just more compatible sexually. Can you blame me?”

“Are you sure you want me to cum?” I asked.

“Yes. Definitely. I want you to cum.” She said with certainty. “Do it for me,” she begged. “Look what he’s doing to me. I’m sorry sweetie, but you just can’t do this for me.”

……

When Nikki said, “Cum for me while you watch Matt take me away from you,” and they embraced in a long, deep kiss, I came.

https://www.literotica.com/s/giving-nikki-away-pt-02