down to her pussy. She didn't process all the words, or the serious intent behind them. What she heard was his offer to make her fantasies come true.
Guy continued, emboldened by her silence, which he took for acceptance. 'The beautiful thing, Tracy, is that you and I come with no strings attached. We're both married, happily I presume, and we both want one thing – to explore our mutual interests, without hurting anyone. We don't even have to have sex, if you don't want; just the game – the excitement of a little rope, a little restraint. Shit, it's better 'n sex!'
'Let me think about it, Guy. This is a lot to consider.' Tracy was twisting the edge of her napkin into a little point, seemingly so focused on it she couldn't look over at him.
'It is. And you take your time, sugar. No rush, none at all. If it never happens, hey, that's cool. Just knowing you're out there. Another compatriot after my own heart. Hey, it's good to have a friend. Now let's get back to work before anyone misses us.'
Later that evening, with Kyle tapping away in the other room, Tracy found Paul and confided in him. She told him about Guy, the happy hour, lunch, and what Guy had proposed.
A little piece of her wanted Paul to protest, to say she was his property, and who the fuck was this Guy person, but he didn't. Not, in retrospect, that she would have expected him to. One thing Paul never did was to press her in any way. After that one sentence telling her sweetly that he would wait 'a thousand years' for her, he had never mentioned any possibility of their getting together in any way.
He never mentioned her marriage, or the fact that it mustn't be too great for her since she was always online, and lately also on the phone, with him. Now was no exception. He asked questions, making sure she felt safe with Guy, that he could be trusted.
'Oh, and his saying it's better than sex? He's lying. He wants to fuck you, make no mistake about that. Just be ready for it is all I'm saying,' Paul warned.
He reminded her that fantasy, which was all she'd really had to this point, and reality, could be two very different things. She might find out, after all, this wasn't her cup of tea – which was fine, but was something she should be prepared for. She should make sure Guy understood and respected her limits.
'Are you asking for my permission?' he finally typed, when Tracy kept going round and round about it all.
'I guess I am, kind of,' Tracy admitted.
'You don't need my permission, Tracy,' he responded. 'You don't belong to me; not in that way. Not in 'real life.' That's something you'll have to decide on your own. Just remember, sweetheart, to be careful. Don't get yourself in a situation where you could be hurt, or compromised. Make sure you know this guy and his motives, before you commit to something that could have ramifications you aren't ready to deal with. And, Tracy, just to be safe, please tell someone where you're going to be. A trusted girlfriend, someone. I know you work with the guy and all that, but people can get crazy. I want to know you're safe.'
'And now,' he went on, 'topic change. I want to know how you felt the other day, after our little phone call. How did it make you feel when I made you stop?'
Tracy paused for a while, her fingers poised at the keyboard. She pressed her lips together, her eyes bright with embarrassment as she remembered what had actually happened that morning, when, instead of pulling up her panties and obeying his command, she had wantonly made herself come. Did she tell him? Admit it and confess? Or did she pretend and make up how it had felt to be left on the edge?
Let me honest withsomeone in my life, she thought, thinking of the secret web of lies she and Kyle were steadily building around each other. She typed, 'Um, I kind of didn't do what you said.'
'Meaning?'
'Well, I was so turned on by what you did, that I,' again her fingers lifted, not wanting to type what she knew she must. Taking a deep breath she wrote, 'I made myself come after you hung up. I was just too hot; it just kind of happened.'
'Ah.' She waited, but nothing else scrolled across her screen.
''Ah'?' she finally typed back. 'Is that all you have to say?'
'What do you want me to say?'
'I don't know; I guess I'm expecting you to yell at me or something. To punish me.' As Tracy typed that sentence her perverse little pussy tightened, and she waited expectantly, though she wasn't sure for what.
'Do you deserve to be punished?'
Tracy felt silly; why was he making her say it? She had had some vague notion that he would bluster with pretend rage and tell her she needed a whipping for being such a slut. This quiet interrogation was unnerving her.
'I asked you a question, Tracy. Do you deserve to be punished for your complete lack of control? For your obvious indifference to my express direction that you pull up your panties and cover your hot little wet cunt and go to work like a good girl? Do you deserve to have your ass bared so I can spank it till it's cherry red, till you're crying for me to stop?'
Ah, this was more like it! Grinning, Tracy typed back, 'Yes, sir, I deserve that.'
A pause and then, 'Well, I disagree.'
What? She wasn't following him at all. He explained, and her face burned as she read the words. 'You want a game, Tracy. You want your 'stern master' to order you to do stuff, so you can refuse and get pretend punishments, which of course aren't really punishments at all, but a way of getting yourself off. You want to use me to get yourself off, don't you, little slut?'
God, he was right. That was exactly what she had been fishing for. Maybe itwas all just a game to her? How would she ever know, ever get to find out if it was more? She was chagrined, and a little ashamed, because they had so much more than that. If only they could talk on the phone, she could apologize. He could hear in her voice that she meant it.
'If only I could talk to you right now.'
'Call me.'
'I can't. He's here.'
'You need something at the store. You forgot. You'll be right back.'
'Weare low on milk,' she responded, her mind churning, thinking how to phrase it best to convince Kyle she should run out without arousing any suspicion. He was clacking away at his keyboard. 'But are you still at work? It's 8:00 in New York.'
'Where else do I have to be?' he answered. 'I have a big project, actually, that I'm supposed to be working on, but instead I seem to find myself always online typing to some little slut girl.' He typed a little happy face, to indicate he was teasing.
'Ok,' she answered. 'If I can do this, I'll call you in about ten minutes. If I don't call, get back online and I'll be here.'
'It's a deal.'
Tracy logged off and went up behind Kyle, feeling like a heel, but wanting to talk to Paul too much to care. 'Hey, honey, I forgot we need milk and a few other things at the store. I think I'll go now, when it won't be crowded. Want to come?' A risk, but it made it more plausible.
'What?' Kyle distractedly responded, quickly minimizing whatever he was typing. 'Oh, no, no. That's fine. You go on ahead. Just don't be too long, ok?'
Tracy smiled to herself, and grabbed the keys, then drove to the corner convenience store and hurried to the payphone. She dialed the 800 number that was already committed to memory, She glanced about nervously, waiting for his phone to ring and his sweet voice to be on the other end.
'Paul Wilson.'
'Hi,' she said, feeling shy as she always did when they first spoke to each other.
'Hi, Tracy. I'm glad you could get away.'
'Yeah, but I don't have long, you know. I wanted to say, well, I wanted to apologize.'
'I know. It's over, anyway. It's forgotten. You were right you know; you do deserve to be punished. If you were mine; if you were with me now, you'd be punished. You know what I'd like to do?'
'What?' Tracy whispered, feeling her whole body respond to him.
'Well, first I'd start by chaining you to the headboard. Your head would be facing the headboard, and you would be on your knees, wrists chained up high. I would spank your naughty little ass for a while till it was good and
