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Black Hand
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jan 3, 2011
- Location
- A Flyover State
The girl on the screen couldn't be any older then him. Everything about her appearance spoke of an all consuming awkwardness and lack of self confidence. Her dull black hair was fixed into a pair of braids by sets of yellow ribbons, falling all the way to the small of her back. Her freckled face was obscured by the unwieldy size of the black glasses frames on her face. And the turtleneck sweater she wore could easily be the ugliest color of brown anyone had ever made into a piece of clothing. He could hardly believe someone would wear that.
But, it was the way she held her eyes and the way she held her body, and the way she held herself that really made Eric's gaze focus. Her hands were frozen in a nervous wringing, forever captured in the video library. And her bright blue eyes were desperate and pleading, staring right into the low quality camera that Eric guessed must have been been mounted to the top of her computer. Eric's attention swung back to the door to the room with paranoia before he plugged his headphones into the jack on the computer. And then he pressed play.
“Hello....Master...” The girl mumbled in discomfort. Now that the video actually was playing, the weakness of her posture was even more evident. In her seat, she shook back and forth. Her hands hung to the side of what to do, and her head would occasionally jerk back and forth towards any of the room's entrances. “This is Slave Girl #22, and this is her hundred and eleventh day without being allowed to cum. Of course you know, Master, that this is....is only getting more difficult.” Her rosy cheeks reddened to a brilliant tomato hue. Eric shifted postures in his chair and raised his hand to the small golden patch of hair on his chin.
The girl continued with a slight whimper, her chair rolled back when she started to stand up, giving the camera a view of her blue mini skirt for a moment, before she readjusted it towards her face. “When this girl asked to be belted, she..she assumed that in time it would get easier....That she would get used to it. But, whenever she doesn't expect it, the belt...it..it maker her feel how it wants her to feel. She can be in the bookstore or in class and it makes her collapse to her knees in need. it.. it owns her. It leaves her begging” her voice gained strength but didn't lose it's desperation, “and it leaves her gasping. Please, please, please, please Master. Girl #22 wants to cum sooooooo badly.” Her hands purposefully snuck underneath her skirt trying to pry at the belt, but the scraping sounds informed Eric of how complete a failure it was. The girl's eyes closed shut and her voice creaked of caged need. “Please Master, This girl would do anythinggggggg to cum....”
And then out of nowhere a buzzing sound played through his headphones. The desperate girl's brilliant blue eyes shot open in desperation. Within seconds she had melted back into her chair, groaning over and over again and the top of her lungs. He couldn't see bellow her waist, but he could tell that her hips were rolling into the sensation with all the vigor in the world. Between her kitten like mewls, she would whisper over and over again “thank you, Master.” And then as her breath was reaching a peak, and the sounds of passion had approached as loud as it would go, the unseen hand retracted it's gift. The buzzing stopped as suddenly as it began, leaving the girl desperately flailing in an attempt to just get a bit closer to the release that had eluded her for so long. She looked so close that he bet she could feel the beginning of an orgasm creeping up on her. But slowly, she stopped and sunk into her chair in defeat, her breath rising and falling in hopeless despair. After awhile she whispered towards the camera in a defeated mewl “This is Slave Girl #22, signing off for night one hundred and eleven. Eric could almost see a tear drop in her eyes. Then the screen went dark.
Eric glanced backwards towards the boxes hidden in the back of the closet. It seemed that petite little Daphne might just be hiding some things. Daphne was a girl in his grade. Quiet, shy, and rarely interacting with anyone at all. He'd never seen her with any friends, and certainty not with any boyfriends. This was the first time he'd ever been in her lavish dorm. Her parents had a fortune, so it let her buy a house all to herself on campus. Right now he was here doing a project. Or he would be if a certain someone hadn't been retreating to the bathroom every five minutes, sometimes for half an hour at a time. It gave him time to explore. Some porn magazines were hidden under her bed. Oddly both playboy and playgirl. And in her closet he'd found the strangest thing yet. Box after box of female chastity belts. And as kinky a guy as he was, after this Eric might need to add female chastity to his list of fetishes. He'd been curious when he'd heard the key master mentioned in a thread on Fetlife, but never bothered to Google it. Thankfully, Daphne had left up a stats sheet she had been working up on her program.
Seventy eight girls in total, twenty two of whom were currently under the lock and key of the program. At the max it could support thirty five. Two of the girls had been promoted to sort of assistants where they could help manage the stats of the others in her care. Of course, neither of the had access to the remotes controlling their own orgasm. The standard term was three months at the subject at the belt at a time, because after that the belt would need cleaning. But, many of the girls were repeat customers. A total of fifty seven of seventy eight had signed up for at least one more term. Of the currently belted girls, eight were repeat customers. Three had done it more then four times. Slave Girl #6 had done nine back to back terms.
The page also held stats on each girl's orgasm. As part of the request to The Key Master to be one of her Slave Girls, they would provide a log of orgasms for the past month. It was one of the way that Daphne kept the repeat girls under control between terms. Also, while the belt was active, she would occasionally let them go all the way. Sometimes as many as three times or four times in a term, sometimes not once. Eric imagined that this was to keep them wondering if this time they would finally be allowed to cum. Being the wallflower that she was, Eric figured she knew about the mindset of the masturbation addicted girl perfectly. Her planning was fool proof.
Next he opened up the stat document on the belts she was using. It's link was right next to the dossier in the folder. She's apparently ordered them with her money. There were state of the art orgasm blockers. Steel much too strong too break down through safe means, shock absorbers to prevent stimulation by applying pressure. And powerful solar powered egg vibrators positioned perfectly above the victims clit But some of the other features were novel as well. There was a bit of equipment inside of the belt that could actively track how close a girl might be by a combination of moisture rate and blood flow. By using one baseline orgasm for comparison it could tell the controller how close a girl was. The material was lightweight enough and small enough that they could even be covered by the right set of panties. The expensive anti-rust and anti-germ sealants used made simple showering enough to keep the belts sanitary for a full 15 weeks, more then ten times as long as a normal chastity belt. Finally, the belts were wireless sending information to the internet, that would be picked up by a specialized AIM account.
Eric read over that section again. Slowly he rose from the computer, and looked around the room. Outside in the hallway, the door to the bathroom was still sealed shut. It was starting to bug him that Daphne had yet to come out. What as she doing in there? Slowly he sat back down into the chair and booted up her browser. If he was lucky, she would still be signed into AIM. He typed in the address into the search bar and crossed his fingers.
“Welcome back TheKeyMaster” was scrolled at the top of the page. For someone with enough anal retention to come up with a fool proof bdsm network, her security showed way too many signs of being scatter brained. The only thing different in this account was a button marked status next to the chat button. When he clicked it he was shown to a screen showing some bars associated with different girls, and a set of ten commands. Part of him wanted to experiment with these a lot, but he just left it at clicking the green button labeled “cum” near a graph marked #66. It made him imagine that somewhere, one of Daphne's girls was doubling over in pleasure. Eric smiled. He could get used to this.
Next Eris slid over to the chat menu. There was too many names on it to figure out who he'd want to have a conversation with. Instead he just opened up the most recent chat log.
Redeye: So I took some time to think it over
TheKeyMaster: Yes, girl?
Redeye: Well, I cannot deny that the way you put it's a bit...
TheKeyMaster: Arousing?
Redeye: Yes...that.
Eric raised his eyebrow. Thankfully he remembered there was a file marked pictures back in Daphne's folder on her computer. Inside there was indeed a picture marked red eye. It showed a pretty cute goth girl, with a piercing in her eyebrow and dyed crimson hair. After a second though, he scrolled through the picture library. The girls who had already agreed were labeled by number, rather then by handle. So scrolling through to one specific one was easy. The girl in the picture of #67 was in her late twenties, and kept her platinum blond hair in a loose ponytail. The picture was taken in a kitchen in a suburban house. Eric couldn't help but notice that in the background he could swear that there was a baby seat at the table. He stared at it a moment longer, licking his lips, before he reopened the chat log.
TheKeyMaster: So do you accept?
Redeye: I still don't know. I mean, I want to. But three months without being able to cum? Without being able to fuck?
TheKeyMaster: you have a whole life to fuck. Didn't you tell me how much you were into new experiences?
There was a ten minute delay between the question and Redeye's response.
Redeye: I...still don't know.
TheKeymaster: I'm in no rush. Take your time. Think it over. While you wait I have a belt with your number waiting for you.
Redeye: Okay, thanks for understanding, sir.
TheKeyMaster: It's nothing. One thing though. Do I sound like a sir to you?
Redeye: I suppose you're right.
Redeye: Master.
TheKeyMaster: Good Girl.
Redeye: Later.
Eric admired her technique. In his own online domming, he would never have been so direct, but when you're reputation is so intimidating, that changed how the rules work. Still, there was some flaws in her technique. He was too pushy and it probably showed. This redeye girl seemed to want it bad, so it was just pushy enough to work. But, with someone further on the fence he doubted it would be too convincing. All of her pray was easy pickings. But there needs to be a touch of softness while you play hard. Eric opened the next chat log.
theanswer: this is slave girl #42 reporting in, Master.
TheKeyMaster: Your report?
theanswer: nothing out of the ordinary to report. slave girl #55 and slave girl #37 have reported nothing of any note. but, girl #57 mentioned that she's far enough along that she almost came by accident from a brush to her nipple. Reports from all three here.
Below the post was a set of links. He imagined they were more videos like the ones that daphne had kept such a diligent collection of.
TheKeyMaster: Very good, slave. Your recommendations?
theanswer: this slave recommends normal adjustments to girl #55. she also reomends a near orgasm for #37 to shake her up. But, for your slave girl #57 your humble slave asks you for permission to let her go all the way to orgasm.
TheKeyMaster: Sounds acceptable to me. And I give you permission to bring #57 all of the way.
theanswer: thank you, Master.
theanswer: your needy slave also asks on her hands and knees for an orgasm for slave #42. please, master....
TheKeyMaster: Denied.
theanswer:
The next chat log was from an acount named Lancelot47. It was the first male that he had seen on the chatlong and the only one for a good while. Before he opened it, he heard what he could almost make out to be a moan from the thin wall to to the bathroom. It seemed to Eric that he had a bit more time then he expected. What a naughty girl. He had no fear when he opened the next chat log.
Lancelot47: We talked the other day?
TheKeyMaster: On the fetlife chatroom? I remember you.
Lencelot47: And what do you say?
TheKeyMaster: Absolutely not. If a girl is wearing one of my belts, She's mine. End of discussion.
Lancelot47: I'm not trying to take one of your slaves from you. Do what you want with them. All I'm asking is to borrow one of your belts for my girl. I told you, I'd pay you quite well.
TheKeyMaster: No, No, No. If a girl wants to wear one of my belts she enters my program. End of discussion.
Lancelot47: You don't want to even hear my amount?
TheKeyMaster: If a girl is in my belt, she is MINE. You get that, asshole?
Lancelot47: Fine, but I'd calm down if I were you. You are getting way too posesive.
The Key Master: Fuck you.
Lancelot47 has left this conversation
Eric stroked his chin and closed down the chat window. What else could he look at while Daphne was locked in the bathroom? It seemed he had a bit of free time on his hand. Next he opened up one of the word documents on her desktop. He realized he'd struck gold when he read the words written at the top of the document in solid bold writing.
“The Key Master's Diary.” Eric grinned.
A lot of the document was boring stuff. Plenty of stats and data that probably should have been put in the data document. But the solid gold was the descriptions on her feelings about things. In one spot was a description of her masturbation one night after one of the video reports. She said she came four times and nearly collapsed in exhaustion. The date of this entry was ironically enough the same as the video of Slave Girl #22 that he had watched. Another page mentioned some misgivings about letting a married woman have a term in her program. The woman sad the two were on the verge of getting estranged, and she was starting to think that the belt would be the death knell in their relationship. Another page however, was entirely devoted to bad mouthing a guy who'd tried to flirt one of her slaves up in a bar. She'd never even met the guy, and the idea that he was trying to take her girls from her terrified her. He was mostly skimming it for information that could be fun to read, when he reached an entry of particular note:
For the past few days I’ve been trying to stop myself from masturbating. I don't know why, it's just curiosity. Maybe a bit of a willpower test. But, considering what I do with my time it was just a teeny bit harder then I thought it would be >.<. In the past day alone, my hand almost drifted down there something like eight times. It made me wonder how any of my girls stand it. So I tried on one of the belts. Just for a night of course. It was surprisingly...fun. I let my hand drift down every now and then, but whenever I did, I couldn't touch. After awhile I was just gushing. When I actually removed the belt, the vibrator felt soooooooo goooood. I don't think I want to do it again. I honestly was kind of freaked out by it. I sounded like one of my girls. But, I'm not that weak willed right? I'm a lean mean domme machine, right? It was probability nothing. Probably, just because I'd stopped masturbating for awhile. Sounds plausible to me.
And thankfully, right next to the post was a picture. Daphne, with her long golden hair, and nerdy frames was laying in bed wearing a pajama top. But rather then any sort of bottom, she was just wearing one of the belts. Her hand not holding the camera was longingly touching the steel on the front plate of the belt.
Eric reread this paragraph several times, and then looked over the post about the guy in the bar again. In the other room Daphne's masturbation was growing more furious. On one hand her writings gave up a vibe of someone who desperately wanted control. She kept girls on strings and made them dance however she wanted. But this wasn't the only post of her that gave him a slightly different impression. Just a line here or there, sympathizing with her pets. Questioning what it would be like for them. Almost like her shy helpless act might not be an act at all. Eric just didn't know. Unsure of what to do now, he closed the diary, and thought for a moment. Then he puts his headphones back on and returned to the video library.
“This is Slave Girl #12, and this her twentieth day without being allowed to cum, Master” Said a blue eyed girl wearing a shop uniform in a Scandinavian accent. The smile on her face showed that desperation had not taken hold yet, despite the subservient way she held her eyes low. “Today was uneventful. She managed to get to the bathroom before anyone noticed when you turned on her belt in the middle of the store. She was very disappointed when the feeling receded.”
“This is Slave Girl #18” Whimpered an asian girl in a bright red sun dress. Her accent sounded natural Californian. To his surprise, she was almost shakier then Slave Girl #22. One of her fingers was busy tracing a circle around her nipple. “And this is the hundred and twelfth day that your helpless slave has not been allowed to cum, Master. The way being under your control makes your worthless slut feel is amazing. She doesn't deserve to touch her naughty pussy. If master wishes, she won't touch herself before her next term as your helpless property. But, please, please, please please, please, do not wish that on 18. please, Master.”
“This is Slave Girl #67” Said the platinum blond from the picture in a southern accent that dripped of molasses. “This is her seventh day without being allowed to cum, Master. Today, when her son walked in on her, her son almost saw. She will have to be more careful....”
“This is Slave Girl #6” Said a middle aged woman wearing a buissness suit. “And this is her two hundred and fiftieth day without being allowed to cum, Master. It still makes her pushy acheee when she wants to touch, when she wants to help the belt get her there, but she can't. Your worthless slut knows you are in control. But sometimes she wishes that she could be free for just a second.”
“This is Slave Girl #56” Chirped a girl with short, bleached hair wearing a black grateful dead T-shirt. “And this is Slave Girl #57.” Explained nervously a long haired auburn haired girl, who was sitting in a nearby chair nude. Their words were almost tough to piece through because of how distinct their Scottish accents. “And this is your girl's twelfth day without being allowed to cum, Master” They said at the same time at different levels of enthusiasm. The naked girl went silent, with the burning red blush on her face easily visible no matter how much she tried to avert her eyes from the camera. Slave #56 seemed more comfortable, and continued talking. “Remaining in a couple without the right to touch has been difficult for your girls. Ros-this slave means, Slave #57 has been having it particularly tough. She wanted this bad, but Master knows how shy she is. It's hard for her to go out in public knowing your belt binds her. This slave has been having difficulty not being in control anymore, but as a switch isn't too far out of her comfort zone. She wishes she could cum though...” Slave #56 bit her lip...
Finally, Eric opened up another video marked under slave #22. In this one, she was sitting cross legged on the floor. She still had on a combination of loose fitting turtleneck and short skirt, but now she was also wearing a pair of black socks. She adjusted her black glasses and took a deep breath. “This is Slave Girl #22 and this is her... hundred and twentieth day without being allowed to cum, Master.” Her hand played with the braid in her hair, undoing and redoing the ribbon quickly over and over again to pacify her nerves. “She knows that in a week her term with the belt would be up. She was really really unsure about it when she first asked. She couldn't help herself, but was worried she would hate it. But being helpless, being in Master's control has really been a great experience.”
There was a loud sound from the bathroom, and Eric paused the video. Daphne's moaning and grunting had sped up. He figured she was going to cum in not too long. The volume was already at max so he was just going to have to deal with it. Eric hit play on the video again.
“Your girl was thi-” she paused mid-sentence, her eyes shooting open. He couldn't hear the buzzing over the sounds from the bathroom, but he imagined that her pussy had just started to vibrate. Suddenly she toppled forward, her face directly staring into the camera . And while eh could see her mouth making the sounds of whimpers and groans, the actual whimpers and groans he was hearing was coming from the bathroom. The girl's breath became more and more frequent. One of her braids was quickly getting unknotted because the ribbon had been out when the vibration had started. For a moment as he watched her, his vision almost distorted. Instead of the tangled black braids on her head, he saw the straight golden hair that matched the huffing in his ears. Instead of the square black frames he saw the navy blue glasses that matched the moaning in the other room. And then Slave Girl #22 gave a moan large enough to even overcome the battling sound of a girl having difficulty reaching orgasm in the bathroom, and her whole body spasmed and shook with all the pleasure that she had built up in three months of denial. The orgasm seemed to go on forever and ever, and by the time she was done, Slave Girl #22 was laying on her back hyperventilating. Her eyes were closed, and her lip was traced into a smile of contentment. At that moment, the voyeur heard a groan of desperation from the bathroom. From Daphne. Eric knew what he had to do.
By the time that Daphne finally came downstairs to excuse them, Eric had already finished. When Daphne would return to her computer, she would find every video file and every text document deleted. The list of websites and passwords she used had made it too easy. If she tried to long into any of her forum or chatroom accounts, or even her precious AIM account, she would find the password changed. All of the files were in his flashdrive. And his Phone was already signed into the AIM account. He even snuck one of the Belts into his bag. The journal had been backed up for reference, and then deleted. But he also printed off a coy of the page about her experience with the belt, and tucked it into his pocket. When she would return to the computer, the only things she would find would be a note from him written into the now blank journal document, and any programs she might not have put on to her list of accounts and programs associated with the Key Master persona. When she told them to leave Eric was grinning. He could almost imagine her expression when she would read his note.
But, it was the way she held her eyes and the way she held her body, and the way she held herself that really made Eric's gaze focus. Her hands were frozen in a nervous wringing, forever captured in the video library. And her bright blue eyes were desperate and pleading, staring right into the low quality camera that Eric guessed must have been been mounted to the top of her computer. Eric's attention swung back to the door to the room with paranoia before he plugged his headphones into the jack on the computer. And then he pressed play.
“Hello....Master...” The girl mumbled in discomfort. Now that the video actually was playing, the weakness of her posture was even more evident. In her seat, she shook back and forth. Her hands hung to the side of what to do, and her head would occasionally jerk back and forth towards any of the room's entrances. “This is Slave Girl #22, and this is her hundred and eleventh day without being allowed to cum. Of course you know, Master, that this is....is only getting more difficult.” Her rosy cheeks reddened to a brilliant tomato hue. Eric shifted postures in his chair and raised his hand to the small golden patch of hair on his chin.
The girl continued with a slight whimper, her chair rolled back when she started to stand up, giving the camera a view of her blue mini skirt for a moment, before she readjusted it towards her face. “When this girl asked to be belted, she..she assumed that in time it would get easier....That she would get used to it. But, whenever she doesn't expect it, the belt...it..it maker her feel how it wants her to feel. She can be in the bookstore or in class and it makes her collapse to her knees in need. it.. it owns her. It leaves her begging” her voice gained strength but didn't lose it's desperation, “and it leaves her gasping. Please, please, please, please Master. Girl #22 wants to cum sooooooo badly.” Her hands purposefully snuck underneath her skirt trying to pry at the belt, but the scraping sounds informed Eric of how complete a failure it was. The girl's eyes closed shut and her voice creaked of caged need. “Please Master, This girl would do anythinggggggg to cum....”
And then out of nowhere a buzzing sound played through his headphones. The desperate girl's brilliant blue eyes shot open in desperation. Within seconds she had melted back into her chair, groaning over and over again and the top of her lungs. He couldn't see bellow her waist, but he could tell that her hips were rolling into the sensation with all the vigor in the world. Between her kitten like mewls, she would whisper over and over again “thank you, Master.” And then as her breath was reaching a peak, and the sounds of passion had approached as loud as it would go, the unseen hand retracted it's gift. The buzzing stopped as suddenly as it began, leaving the girl desperately flailing in an attempt to just get a bit closer to the release that had eluded her for so long. She looked so close that he bet she could feel the beginning of an orgasm creeping up on her. But slowly, she stopped and sunk into her chair in defeat, her breath rising and falling in hopeless despair. After awhile she whispered towards the camera in a defeated mewl “This is Slave Girl #22, signing off for night one hundred and eleven. Eric could almost see a tear drop in her eyes. Then the screen went dark.
Eric glanced backwards towards the boxes hidden in the back of the closet. It seemed that petite little Daphne might just be hiding some things. Daphne was a girl in his grade. Quiet, shy, and rarely interacting with anyone at all. He'd never seen her with any friends, and certainty not with any boyfriends. This was the first time he'd ever been in her lavish dorm. Her parents had a fortune, so it let her buy a house all to herself on campus. Right now he was here doing a project. Or he would be if a certain someone hadn't been retreating to the bathroom every five minutes, sometimes for half an hour at a time. It gave him time to explore. Some porn magazines were hidden under her bed. Oddly both playboy and playgirl. And in her closet he'd found the strangest thing yet. Box after box of female chastity belts. And as kinky a guy as he was, after this Eric might need to add female chastity to his list of fetishes. He'd been curious when he'd heard the key master mentioned in a thread on Fetlife, but never bothered to Google it. Thankfully, Daphne had left up a stats sheet she had been working up on her program.
Seventy eight girls in total, twenty two of whom were currently under the lock and key of the program. At the max it could support thirty five. Two of the girls had been promoted to sort of assistants where they could help manage the stats of the others in her care. Of course, neither of the had access to the remotes controlling their own orgasm. The standard term was three months at the subject at the belt at a time, because after that the belt would need cleaning. But, many of the girls were repeat customers. A total of fifty seven of seventy eight had signed up for at least one more term. Of the currently belted girls, eight were repeat customers. Three had done it more then four times. Slave Girl #6 had done nine back to back terms.
The page also held stats on each girl's orgasm. As part of the request to The Key Master to be one of her Slave Girls, they would provide a log of orgasms for the past month. It was one of the way that Daphne kept the repeat girls under control between terms. Also, while the belt was active, she would occasionally let them go all the way. Sometimes as many as three times or four times in a term, sometimes not once. Eric imagined that this was to keep them wondering if this time they would finally be allowed to cum. Being the wallflower that she was, Eric figured she knew about the mindset of the masturbation addicted girl perfectly. Her planning was fool proof.
Next he opened up the stat document on the belts she was using. It's link was right next to the dossier in the folder. She's apparently ordered them with her money. There were state of the art orgasm blockers. Steel much too strong too break down through safe means, shock absorbers to prevent stimulation by applying pressure. And powerful solar powered egg vibrators positioned perfectly above the victims clit But some of the other features were novel as well. There was a bit of equipment inside of the belt that could actively track how close a girl might be by a combination of moisture rate and blood flow. By using one baseline orgasm for comparison it could tell the controller how close a girl was. The material was lightweight enough and small enough that they could even be covered by the right set of panties. The expensive anti-rust and anti-germ sealants used made simple showering enough to keep the belts sanitary for a full 15 weeks, more then ten times as long as a normal chastity belt. Finally, the belts were wireless sending information to the internet, that would be picked up by a specialized AIM account.
Eric read over that section again. Slowly he rose from the computer, and looked around the room. Outside in the hallway, the door to the bathroom was still sealed shut. It was starting to bug him that Daphne had yet to come out. What as she doing in there? Slowly he sat back down into the chair and booted up her browser. If he was lucky, she would still be signed into AIM. He typed in the address into the search bar and crossed his fingers.
“Welcome back TheKeyMaster” was scrolled at the top of the page. For someone with enough anal retention to come up with a fool proof bdsm network, her security showed way too many signs of being scatter brained. The only thing different in this account was a button marked status next to the chat button. When he clicked it he was shown to a screen showing some bars associated with different girls, and a set of ten commands. Part of him wanted to experiment with these a lot, but he just left it at clicking the green button labeled “cum” near a graph marked #66. It made him imagine that somewhere, one of Daphne's girls was doubling over in pleasure. Eric smiled. He could get used to this.
Next Eris slid over to the chat menu. There was too many names on it to figure out who he'd want to have a conversation with. Instead he just opened up the most recent chat log.
Redeye: So I took some time to think it over
TheKeyMaster: Yes, girl?
Redeye: Well, I cannot deny that the way you put it's a bit...
TheKeyMaster: Arousing?
Redeye: Yes...that.
Eric raised his eyebrow. Thankfully he remembered there was a file marked pictures back in Daphne's folder on her computer. Inside there was indeed a picture marked red eye. It showed a pretty cute goth girl, with a piercing in her eyebrow and dyed crimson hair. After a second though, he scrolled through the picture library. The girls who had already agreed were labeled by number, rather then by handle. So scrolling through to one specific one was easy. The girl in the picture of #67 was in her late twenties, and kept her platinum blond hair in a loose ponytail. The picture was taken in a kitchen in a suburban house. Eric couldn't help but notice that in the background he could swear that there was a baby seat at the table. He stared at it a moment longer, licking his lips, before he reopened the chat log.
TheKeyMaster: So do you accept?
Redeye: I still don't know. I mean, I want to. But three months without being able to cum? Without being able to fuck?
TheKeyMaster: you have a whole life to fuck. Didn't you tell me how much you were into new experiences?
There was a ten minute delay between the question and Redeye's response.
Redeye: I...still don't know.
TheKeymaster: I'm in no rush. Take your time. Think it over. While you wait I have a belt with your number waiting for you.
Redeye: Okay, thanks for understanding, sir.
TheKeyMaster: It's nothing. One thing though. Do I sound like a sir to you?
Redeye: I suppose you're right.
Redeye: Master.
TheKeyMaster: Good Girl.
Redeye: Later.
Eric admired her technique. In his own online domming, he would never have been so direct, but when you're reputation is so intimidating, that changed how the rules work. Still, there was some flaws in her technique. He was too pushy and it probably showed. This redeye girl seemed to want it bad, so it was just pushy enough to work. But, with someone further on the fence he doubted it would be too convincing. All of her pray was easy pickings. But there needs to be a touch of softness while you play hard. Eric opened the next chat log.
theanswer: this is slave girl #42 reporting in, Master.
TheKeyMaster: Your report?
theanswer: nothing out of the ordinary to report. slave girl #55 and slave girl #37 have reported nothing of any note. but, girl #57 mentioned that she's far enough along that she almost came by accident from a brush to her nipple. Reports from all three here.
Below the post was a set of links. He imagined they were more videos like the ones that daphne had kept such a diligent collection of.
TheKeyMaster: Very good, slave. Your recommendations?
theanswer: this slave recommends normal adjustments to girl #55. she also reomends a near orgasm for #37 to shake her up. But, for your slave girl #57 your humble slave asks you for permission to let her go all the way to orgasm.
TheKeyMaster: Sounds acceptable to me. And I give you permission to bring #57 all of the way.
theanswer: thank you, Master.
theanswer: your needy slave also asks on her hands and knees for an orgasm for slave #42. please, master....
TheKeyMaster: Denied.
theanswer:
The next chat log was from an acount named Lancelot47. It was the first male that he had seen on the chatlong and the only one for a good while. Before he opened it, he heard what he could almost make out to be a moan from the thin wall to to the bathroom. It seemed to Eric that he had a bit more time then he expected. What a naughty girl. He had no fear when he opened the next chat log.
Lancelot47: We talked the other day?
TheKeyMaster: On the fetlife chatroom? I remember you.
Lencelot47: And what do you say?
TheKeyMaster: Absolutely not. If a girl is wearing one of my belts, She's mine. End of discussion.
Lancelot47: I'm not trying to take one of your slaves from you. Do what you want with them. All I'm asking is to borrow one of your belts for my girl. I told you, I'd pay you quite well.
TheKeyMaster: No, No, No. If a girl wants to wear one of my belts she enters my program. End of discussion.
Lancelot47: You don't want to even hear my amount?
TheKeyMaster: If a girl is in my belt, she is MINE. You get that, asshole?
Lancelot47: Fine, but I'd calm down if I were you. You are getting way too posesive.
The Key Master: Fuck you.
Lancelot47 has left this conversation
Eric stroked his chin and closed down the chat window. What else could he look at while Daphne was locked in the bathroom? It seemed he had a bit of free time on his hand. Next he opened up one of the word documents on her desktop. He realized he'd struck gold when he read the words written at the top of the document in solid bold writing.
“The Key Master's Diary.” Eric grinned.
A lot of the document was boring stuff. Plenty of stats and data that probably should have been put in the data document. But the solid gold was the descriptions on her feelings about things. In one spot was a description of her masturbation one night after one of the video reports. She said she came four times and nearly collapsed in exhaustion. The date of this entry was ironically enough the same as the video of Slave Girl #22 that he had watched. Another page mentioned some misgivings about letting a married woman have a term in her program. The woman sad the two were on the verge of getting estranged, and she was starting to think that the belt would be the death knell in their relationship. Another page however, was entirely devoted to bad mouthing a guy who'd tried to flirt one of her slaves up in a bar. She'd never even met the guy, and the idea that he was trying to take her girls from her terrified her. He was mostly skimming it for information that could be fun to read, when he reached an entry of particular note:
For the past few days I’ve been trying to stop myself from masturbating. I don't know why, it's just curiosity. Maybe a bit of a willpower test. But, considering what I do with my time it was just a teeny bit harder then I thought it would be >.<. In the past day alone, my hand almost drifted down there something like eight times. It made me wonder how any of my girls stand it. So I tried on one of the belts. Just for a night of course. It was surprisingly...fun. I let my hand drift down every now and then, but whenever I did, I couldn't touch. After awhile I was just gushing. When I actually removed the belt, the vibrator felt soooooooo goooood. I don't think I want to do it again. I honestly was kind of freaked out by it. I sounded like one of my girls. But, I'm not that weak willed right? I'm a lean mean domme machine, right? It was probability nothing. Probably, just because I'd stopped masturbating for awhile. Sounds plausible to me.
And thankfully, right next to the post was a picture. Daphne, with her long golden hair, and nerdy frames was laying in bed wearing a pajama top. But rather then any sort of bottom, she was just wearing one of the belts. Her hand not holding the camera was longingly touching the steel on the front plate of the belt.
Eric reread this paragraph several times, and then looked over the post about the guy in the bar again. In the other room Daphne's masturbation was growing more furious. On one hand her writings gave up a vibe of someone who desperately wanted control. She kept girls on strings and made them dance however she wanted. But this wasn't the only post of her that gave him a slightly different impression. Just a line here or there, sympathizing with her pets. Questioning what it would be like for them. Almost like her shy helpless act might not be an act at all. Eric just didn't know. Unsure of what to do now, he closed the diary, and thought for a moment. Then he puts his headphones back on and returned to the video library.
“This is Slave Girl #12, and this her twentieth day without being allowed to cum, Master” Said a blue eyed girl wearing a shop uniform in a Scandinavian accent. The smile on her face showed that desperation had not taken hold yet, despite the subservient way she held her eyes low. “Today was uneventful. She managed to get to the bathroom before anyone noticed when you turned on her belt in the middle of the store. She was very disappointed when the feeling receded.”
“This is Slave Girl #18” Whimpered an asian girl in a bright red sun dress. Her accent sounded natural Californian. To his surprise, she was almost shakier then Slave Girl #22. One of her fingers was busy tracing a circle around her nipple. “And this is the hundred and twelfth day that your helpless slave has not been allowed to cum, Master. The way being under your control makes your worthless slut feel is amazing. She doesn't deserve to touch her naughty pussy. If master wishes, she won't touch herself before her next term as your helpless property. But, please, please, please please, please, do not wish that on 18. please, Master.”
“This is Slave Girl #67” Said the platinum blond from the picture in a southern accent that dripped of molasses. “This is her seventh day without being allowed to cum, Master. Today, when her son walked in on her, her son almost saw. She will have to be more careful....”
“This is Slave Girl #6” Said a middle aged woman wearing a buissness suit. “And this is her two hundred and fiftieth day without being allowed to cum, Master. It still makes her pushy acheee when she wants to touch, when she wants to help the belt get her there, but she can't. Your worthless slut knows you are in control. But sometimes she wishes that she could be free for just a second.”
“This is Slave Girl #56” Chirped a girl with short, bleached hair wearing a black grateful dead T-shirt. “And this is Slave Girl #57.” Explained nervously a long haired auburn haired girl, who was sitting in a nearby chair nude. Their words were almost tough to piece through because of how distinct their Scottish accents. “And this is your girl's twelfth day without being allowed to cum, Master” They said at the same time at different levels of enthusiasm. The naked girl went silent, with the burning red blush on her face easily visible no matter how much she tried to avert her eyes from the camera. Slave #56 seemed more comfortable, and continued talking. “Remaining in a couple without the right to touch has been difficult for your girls. Ros-this slave means, Slave #57 has been having it particularly tough. She wanted this bad, but Master knows how shy she is. It's hard for her to go out in public knowing your belt binds her. This slave has been having difficulty not being in control anymore, but as a switch isn't too far out of her comfort zone. She wishes she could cum though...” Slave #56 bit her lip...
Finally, Eric opened up another video marked under slave #22. In this one, she was sitting cross legged on the floor. She still had on a combination of loose fitting turtleneck and short skirt, but now she was also wearing a pair of black socks. She adjusted her black glasses and took a deep breath. “This is Slave Girl #22 and this is her... hundred and twentieth day without being allowed to cum, Master.” Her hand played with the braid in her hair, undoing and redoing the ribbon quickly over and over again to pacify her nerves. “She knows that in a week her term with the belt would be up. She was really really unsure about it when she first asked. She couldn't help herself, but was worried she would hate it. But being helpless, being in Master's control has really been a great experience.”
There was a loud sound from the bathroom, and Eric paused the video. Daphne's moaning and grunting had sped up. He figured she was going to cum in not too long. The volume was already at max so he was just going to have to deal with it. Eric hit play on the video again.
“Your girl was thi-” she paused mid-sentence, her eyes shooting open. He couldn't hear the buzzing over the sounds from the bathroom, but he imagined that her pussy had just started to vibrate. Suddenly she toppled forward, her face directly staring into the camera . And while eh could see her mouth making the sounds of whimpers and groans, the actual whimpers and groans he was hearing was coming from the bathroom. The girl's breath became more and more frequent. One of her braids was quickly getting unknotted because the ribbon had been out when the vibration had started. For a moment as he watched her, his vision almost distorted. Instead of the tangled black braids on her head, he saw the straight golden hair that matched the huffing in his ears. Instead of the square black frames he saw the navy blue glasses that matched the moaning in the other room. And then Slave Girl #22 gave a moan large enough to even overcome the battling sound of a girl having difficulty reaching orgasm in the bathroom, and her whole body spasmed and shook with all the pleasure that she had built up in three months of denial. The orgasm seemed to go on forever and ever, and by the time she was done, Slave Girl #22 was laying on her back hyperventilating. Her eyes were closed, and her lip was traced into a smile of contentment. At that moment, the voyeur heard a groan of desperation from the bathroom. From Daphne. Eric knew what he had to do.
By the time that Daphne finally came downstairs to excuse them, Eric had already finished. When Daphne would return to her computer, she would find every video file and every text document deleted. The list of websites and passwords she used had made it too easy. If she tried to long into any of her forum or chatroom accounts, or even her precious AIM account, she would find the password changed. All of the files were in his flashdrive. And his Phone was already signed into the AIM account. He even snuck one of the Belts into his bag. The journal had been backed up for reference, and then deleted. But he also printed off a coy of the page about her experience with the belt, and tucked it into his pocket. When she would return to the computer, the only things she would find would be a note from him written into the now blank journal document, and any programs she might not have put on to her list of accounts and programs associated with the Key Master persona. When she told them to leave Eric was grinning. He could almost imagine her expression when she would read his note.
It seems that you have been a very very naughty girl Daphne. I think that we might have to come to some kind of arrangement if you want your toys back. Bring your wallet, you may need it.
- Your friend, The Key Master. XOXO