Cuffed (Black Velvet Society 2)

Cuffed (Black Velvet Society)
Megan Slayer
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Megan Slayer

"What Daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." Molly Reynolds logged into her account at BlackVelvetSociety.com and scanned the open playrooms. She'd been a frequent visitor to the site for almost a year. Since her father was the biggest director in Hollywood, she couldn't do much in public without grabbing attention. It also limited who she could see and be seen doing. One whiff of her participating in anything having to do with the BDSM scene, and her father would have a fit. The media would have a field day with the news.

What would people say if they found out she had a fantasy involving being arrested by a very hunky cop and being strip-searched? She pressed her knees together. Her skin sizzled and her pussy creamed. He'd have to use the handcuffs on her and spank her for being insubordinate. Maybe use a few toys to get her to confess to her crime and isolation to make sure she learned her lesson. She knew just what man she wanted as her cop.

FloggerDom30.

She'd never spoken to him in person, but their chats steamed up her computer. He understood her needs and wants. When she masturbated, he was the mental picture she used -- dark hair cut close to his head, aviator sunglasses, and a chiseled jaw with just the right amount of scruff to abrade her inner thighs. Then there was the smug expression. His arms were covered with tattoos. Three thin hoops dangled from one earlobe. She couldn't see the other ear in any of his pictures.

She fanned herself. He could sneer at her any day. Night after night, she turned to him for satisfaction. Hell, if it was possible to fall in love with a person in a chat room... she'd started to fall head over heels for him. She tried to ignore the niggling feeling he couldn't feel the same way about her. Maybe this time would be different.

The name on his particular playroom, Dark Hall, wasn't lit up. She drummed her fingers on the desktop. The more they chatted, the more she'd come to want to meet him in real life. She depended on him.

"Where are you when I need you?" She almost said "for a good fuck" but she wanted more from him than just sex. Sure, she wanted sex. Oral, anal... in her pussy -- she didn't care.

Just as she was about to log out, his playroom sign illuminated. "Yes," she said to herself. She clicked on the door to the room and entered. FloggerDom30 was the only name there.

BabyDoll2310: May I enter your room, Sir?

She curled up tight in her chair. One of his rules when they played was obedience. The other was manners. She wanted to please him.

FloggerDom30: Yes, you may.

BabyDoll2310: Thank you, Sir. I'm wearing my bra and panties, Sir. Nothing else. I haven't played with myself in two days.

FloggerDom30: Very good, little one. You please me. Do you wish to play?

BabyDoll2310: I do, Sir. Thank you, Sir.

FloggerDom30: Remove your bra and pinch your nipples. Pretend your hands are mine on your body. Tell me how you feel.

She shivered. This was what she lived for, his virtual hands and his direction telling her what to do. She popped the front clasp on her bra and shrugged out of the flimsy garment. Part of her wished he'd ask for a video chat. She wanted to perform for him. The cool air in her bedroom wrapped around her body, providing a nice contrast to the warmth in her veins. She pinched her nipples, rolling the tight bundles of nerves in her fingertips. A gasp escaped her lips. She closed her eyes and imagined her Flogger Dom caressing her.

The ping of the chat interrupted her quick fantasy. She snapped her eyes open and read what he'd written.

FloggerDom30: Does touching yourself feel good?

BabyDoll2310: It does, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I'd rather you really touched me.

She'd been bold to say exactly what she wanted. Most of the Doms she'd been in contact with either wanted the full attention of their sub or wanted to stay hands off. She never understood the hands-off part, except maybe they wanted the fantasy of the chat without the emotional reality. Part of her liked the dirty chats. The rest of her wanted him to be there touching her, ordering her...