The Master Author - Feline Rating -   [ 4.40 actual ] Site Rank - 448 of 2955 Story Codes - F-f, f-self, consensual, humiliation, self-bondage Post Date - 4/16/2006

I take off my glasses and rub my eyes, looking away from the computer monitor in an attempt to dispel the beginnings of a headache. The clock on my wall says it is too late to be studying. I smile, turning on my swivel chair to look down the length of my very small, very narrow, very cramped (but en-suite) university room. I had arrived at university with the intention of going wild and breaking from my boring tradition of being a good girl, of doing my homework the night it is set, but have somehow slipped into my old ways without realising it. I curse myself and get to my feet, wondering what the rest of the campus was doing on this warm Thursday evening.

Checking I have my room key in my jeans pocket, I venture out into the hallway - it is a little blurry, since I have forgotten to bring my glasses, but I can manage to find my way with no difficulty. There are eight doors in this hallway - one leading to the stairwell, one leading to a utility cupboard, one leading to the communal kitchen and five leading to student bedrooms. All the doors are closed except for the kitchen door, so I venture through - inside, I find Eliza, the dark-haired goth who has the room next to mine, drinking something dark and alcoholic.

"Hey Sarah," she smiles, "Fancy some?"

"No, thanks," I say, heading across to my cupboard and grabbing a packet of crisps. I sit at the communal table opposite her, and open the packet. "Want one?" I ask, proffering it to her.

"Don't mind if I do," she replies, taking a crisp.

"What's happening in the world on this warm Thursday evening?" I ask, between mouthfuls.

"Goth night down at the Student Union," she smiles, "although any form of weirdo is welcome. You should come."

"It's not really my scene," I mumble, suddenly feeling quite shy.

"Suit yourself," she replies, turning so she can lean back on her chair.

While I finish my crisps, I can't help but look at her and admire her. She is really very beautiful, underneath the black lipstick and heavy eyeshadow, underneath the fishnets and the chains. I find myself wondering if she has any piercings (apart from her ears), and am surprised when I suddenly realise that she has been staring at me.

"What?" I ask.

"You look different - something's changed. I see, you're not wearing your glasses. It suits you - you don't look like a frightened rabbit in the headlights of a truck any more."

"Err... thanks."

"You're cute without your glasses. You should go out tonight and pull."

I blush, and talk quickly in an abysmal attempt to hide it. "I don't fancy meeting up with some drunk bloke who's more likely to throw up on my shoes and fall asleep on..."

"The guys at this university are rubbish," she interrupts, "but there is a wealth of talent online. Your PC is hooked up to the campus network and the internet - there must be someone out there in the world who would tickle your fancy. If you asked them nicely."

I manage to avoid blushing a second time. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll give that a go tonight."

"You do that. But, now, I've got to go - my favourite band is playing at the Union and drinks are half price."

"Yeah, okay - see you tomorrow," I say, as she stands, puts her bottle in the bin, grabs her handbag and heads out the door.

"Don't wait up!" she calls back over her shoulder.

And I'm alone. Sitting in the kitchen, holding an empty crisp packet. Not entirely sure what to do with myself on this warm Thursday afternoon. Perhaps I should go online - I've had one or two experiences of chatrooms on the net, so I think I know what I'm doing. Perhaps I will. What have I got to lose?

Decision made, I stand, throw the crisp packet in the bin and return to my room. I immediately cross to my computer and find myself a chatroom. The first hurdle I face is working out what to call myself - nothing too boring, nothing too tarty. A flash of inspiration hits me, much like the truck hits the scared rabbit, and I call myself Fluffy_Bunny. Now it's just a case of finding myself someone to talk to...

After a couple of hours, I come to the conclusion that the internet is over-populated with horny men and under-populated with available women - every time I enter a new chatroom, I find myself inundated with advances of all sorts, from men who want to do all sorts of things with me. None of them seem to want to just chat. Many of them are just plain scary. I am just considering giving up on the idea of internet dating when someone calling themself The_Master grabs my attention.

The_Master: Hello, my pretty pretty.
Fluffy_Bunny: How do you know I'm pretty?
The_Master: All bunnies are pretty.
Fluffy_Bunny: That's quite a wide-ranging assumption.
The_Master: All bunnies are pretty in my experience.
Fluffy_Bunny: I could be the exception to the rule.
The_Master: I doubt it - and I'm willing to take the chance that you're not. Tell me about yourself.

I smile at his response, and then read the last sentence. I'm not ugly by any stretch of the imagination, but I don't consider myself supermodel material either - I have my good bits, I have my flaws. Then I realise the power of the internet - I can move a few inches from my thighs to my breasts, with the power of a little white lie, and not have to pay for liposuction or implants. I read his last sentence again - he might not just want a physical description, like most internet males demand. Perhaps he truly wants to know about me as a person.

Fluffy_Bunny: I'm a 19-year-old student in the UK, studying Human Biology. I like to read, swim and play the piano. You?
The_Master: I ask the questions.

I am taken aback by his reply. He's seemed so nice up until now... but that reply has raised lots of warning flags in my subconsciousness. I pause for a moment, wondering how to react.

Fluffy_Bunny: This conversation is going to be rather one-sided if I can't ask you any questions.
The_Master: What are you wearing?

I have long since stopped being surprised by this sort of question from internet males, but I don't see any harm in replying. Although I really think I should log off and find someone else to chat to, I have to admit to myself that I'm enjoying this mental sparring.

Fluffy_Bunny: T-shirt and jeans.
The_Master: Wrong. You're wearing a leotard, choker, fishnet tights and high heels, all in black. You have white fluffy bunny ears poking out of your long blonde hair and a cute white fluffy tail stuck to your ass. You are not wearing any underwear.

That spelling of 'ass' convinces me that he is American. And, again, I am surprised by his response - he has dressed me as the classic Playboy bunny, whether I like it or not. At least he was spot on about my hair. As I spend a moment thinking up my reply, the idea of dressing up as a bunny girl begins to appeal to me.

Fluffy_Bunny: *wrinkles nose and sniffs the air, like a rabbit*
The_Master: You were meant to meet your other bunny friends here, but now you realise that they're not going to show. It has got dark, and you realise that this area of town isn't safe.

I look away from the screen, and realise that it actually has got dark while I've been busy typing - my room would be pitch black, if it wasn't for the glow of the monitor. I rub my bare arms, feeling a little cold, and possibly a little scared by this fictitious situation this American man has put me into. I smile to myself when I realise the absurdity of the situation, and the absurdity of me being scared by it.

Fluffy_Bunny: I head home, keeping to the main streets and well-lit areas.
The_Master: The road ahead is blocked by a gang of youths, drinking beer and acting rowdy. Luckily, there is a dark alley you can cut through, which would cut your journey time in half.
Fluffy_Bunny: I can see where this is going. You want me to avoid the alley and be molested by the youths. Or you want me to head down the alley and be molested by you.
The_Master: Molest is a very strong word. I would catch you and tie you up.
Fluffy_Bunny: And then you'd molest me. So you like bondage.
The_Master: Have you ever been tied up?
Fluffy_Bunny: No, never.
The_Master: You'd like it. You should try it.
Fluffy_Bunny: You're scaring me.
The_Master: You should tie yourself up.
Fluffy_Bunny: I'm leaving now.
The_Master: Struggling, helpless, at my mercy...
Fluffy_Bunny: Bye.

I log off the chatroom, and a shiver runs down my spine. I was enjoying that sparring match, before he introduced the idea of bondage - I've never been into pain, and the idea of being bound helpless while he could do anything he wanted is... well... I turn away from the monitor and sit on my bed, illuminated only by the glow of my desktop jpeg, and I begin to give serious thought to the idea of being tied up. Of being the damsel in distress. Of not having to worry about my shyness, since I wouldn't be able to resist any advances. And I begin to imagine what he looks like - some tall, dark, handsome hunk of a man, a little bit dangerous maybe, but with a disarming charming smile on his face that tells me that he'd never do anything to hurt me.

I am snapped out of my daydream by the sound of Eliza opening the door to her room - I didn't realise that I'd been online for so long. I hear her turn on her light and close her door behind her - and I'm surprised to see a small glow coming from behind the plant on my bookshelf. Curious, I go to investigate - a piece of plaster has fallen away, and I realise that if I move the plant and the plaster I can see straight into Eliza's room. Unable to resist, I take a peek.

She is walking around her room in her underwear. I immediately feel guilty and look away - but my curiosity soon overpowers my guilt and I return to spying on her. She has a magnificent body, with pale skin and some interesting tattoos. She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, sliding the straps from her shoulders, and I notice that she has a ring through each nipple. I cannot pull myself away from the peephole as she sits on the bed, now wearing just a tiny black thong, and plays idly with her nipple rings while flicking through a magazine. I have to adjust my position slightly to make out what she's reading, and am surprised when I realise that it is a porn magazine, full of women in bondage. I smile. Perhaps I'll talk to her about bondage in the morning.

I move back from the peephole, return the plant to its former position, and go to bed.

"So, did you have any luck?" Eliza asks, interrupting my daydream about bondage in a dark alley.

It is Friday evening, and I still feel a little guilty about spying on her. "A little," I say, guardedly, trying not to sound as guilty as I feel.

"Did you meet someone?" she smiles, sitting in her usual seat at the kitchen table.

"Yes..."

"Does he have a name? What was he like?"

"He scared me, actually. He wanted to tie me up in a dark alley."

"Sounds like fun to me..."

"You kinky thing - I didn't know you were into that sort of stuff," I lie - hopefully convincingly.

"Who isn't?" she winks.

"I'm not sure. He came across as very rude."

"He was probably establishing his dominance, or something like that. So, are you going to chat with him again?"

"I wouldn't know what to say."

"Don't say anything - just go for a walk down that dark alley. It's not as if any harm can come to you. And I'm sure you'd enjoy the experience..."

"I'm still not sure..."

"Well, it's your life. I can't sit around here chin-wagging all evening - there's a dance floor waiting for me, and I've got to change into something more suitable."

We stand up together, and head for our separate rooms. It is only then that I realize I've left my key inside my room, and the door has closed and locked itself. "Damn!"

"What is it?"

"I'm locked out!"

"Allow me."

With a conspiratory smile, she brandishes her credit card - a quick swipe and wiggle of the card between door and doorframe, at lock height, is all that is required to break into my room.

"Thanks," I grin, "I owe you one."

"De nada," she replies, waving before she locks herself in her room and puts her death metal music on at full blast.

I enter my room and grab my key from where I'd left it on the bed, and vow never to forget it again. My wall is shaking from the bassline of Eliza's music, and I guess that that is how the plaster covering the peephole fell away in the first place. Remembering the peephole, I quickly move the plant aside in time to see her pulling a pair of black panties on over her perfectly-rounded bottom - she is otherwise naked. I watch her finish dressing, touch up her makeup and leave, turning off her music and closing her door behind her. I move the plant back into position and sit on my bed, my thoughts turning to bondage. My daydreams get more and more raunchy as I think of all the possibilities... of walking down that dark alley... of knowing I'm going to be surprised by my lover... tied up... taken advantage of...

It has already begun to get dark by the time I finally log onto the computer and return to the chatroom I found yesterday evening. And I'm mildly surprised to find a certain someone waiting for me there...

The_Master: Hello, my pretty pretty.
Fluffy_Bunny: Hello yourself. :)
The_Master: Have you thought about what we talked about?
Fluffy_Bunny: I've decided to risk the alley. It cuts a considerable amount of time off my journey. And I don't like the look of those youths.
The_Master: Good choice.
Fluffy_Bunny: I wish I'd brought a coat - this leotard is very thin and not keeping me warm at all.
The_Master: The silence of the alley is broken by the loud clicking of your stiletto heels.
Fluffy_Bunny: I look around nervously, walking faster.
The_Master: I watch you from the shadows, admiring your long legs in fishnet tights, the curves of your breasts straining against the tight leotard, the wobble of your bunny ears as you walk. You see a movement.
Fluffy_Bunny: I turn towards it, peering into the darkness.
The_Master: I grab you from behind, one hand over your mouth as I pull you into my lair...

He's not going to have me that easily. Smiling to myself, I decide to put up a fight.

Fluffy_Bunny: I bite your hand and stamp a stiletto heel into your foot, following up with a flurry of kicks and punches as I struggle free.
The_Master: You don't have time to scream - I put my hand over your mouth again, ignoring your pathetic attempt to break free, and quickly handcuff your wrists behind your back.

All of a sudden, I feel the fight go out of me - with my hands cuffed behind my back, I am at a disadvantage. I know I can kick, bite and scream, but I don't fancy my chances of escaping. And the more I injure or try to injure my captor, the worse I can expect to be treated.

Fluffy_Bunny: I continue to struggle, focusing more on pulling free of the tight steel bracelets encircling my wrists.
The_Master: I laugh, pulling you deeper into my lair - you can do nothing to resist. I throw you onto a mattress on the floor, and am on you in a second, handcuffing your ankles together and attaching them to your wrists in a hogtie.

That was quick - suddenly, I'm utterly helpless. Instead of replying straight away, I take a moment to picture the scene in my head - some dark abandoned warehouse, maybe lit only by the light of the full moon shining in through some broken windows... a dirty old mattress on the floor... and me, dressed as a very sexy bunny with black fishnets... It's then that I realise I don't own any of those items of clothing. Well, tomorrow is the weekend - perhaps I should go shopping.

Fluffy_Bunny: I glare at you, more angry than afraid, struggling furiously with my bonds.
The_Master: As you open your mouth to speak, I push a ballgag into your mouth and strap it tightly behind your head, under your hair.

What on earth is a 'ballgag'? Then a memory pops into my head, from the backroom of a weapon shop in Tarantino's Pulp Fiction, and I think I know what a ballgag is.

Fluffy_Bunny: I can only mmmph into the gag, and hope the expression in my eyes says everything I want to convey.
The_Master: I lay down next to you on the mattress, watching you struggle, and stroke the hair out of your eyes.
Fluffy_Bunny: I twist my wrists, hoping to find some way to escape.
The_Master: My hand moves down to your legs, and I stroke your fishnet-clad thighs.
Fluffy_Bunny: I begin to lose my motivation to struggle, feeling quite calmed by your stroking.

And calm I am. Surprisingly. I smile when I realise that I am enjoying this. The chase, the fight, the stroking... my nipples are quite hard in my tight t-shirt...

The_Master: I smile at you, warmly, as I move my hand over your breasts - just stroking gently, feeling the hardness of your nipples through the thin material.
Fluffy_Bunny: My nipples harden at your touch, and my struggles become slower and less urgent.
The_Master: My hand moves down your body, between your legs, and I find you moist.

Steady on, that's a bit forward for a first date. Or is this a second date? As I'm trying to decide, I realise that my own hand has ventured down between my legs, and my panties are indeed moist...

Fluffy_Bunny: I close my eyes and murmur softly into the gag as you run your fingers over my helpless body.
The_Master: I grip the material of your leotard with both hands and pull it hard, ripping it apart to reveal your breasts.
Fluffy_Bunny: All I can do is gasp into the gag...
The_Master: Cupping your left breast with one hand, I move my head so I can take your right nipple into my mouth - I suck on it gently, teasing it with my tongue, pressing it softly against my teeth, feeling it harden even more.
Fluffy_Bunny: I squirm, but not because I want to get free, but because I want you.

I'm really getting into this now, getting really excited. I've tasted blood and I want more.

The_Master: I bite your nipple, grinning with your hard nipple between my teeth as I watch you writhe helplessly.
Fluffy_Bunny: Groaning into the gag, I renew my struggles, but I know I can't win this fight.
The_Master: My other hand goes down inside your leotard, pushing down between your legs, locating your hard clit...
Fluffy_Bunny: A soft moan escapes my gagged lips...
The_Master: I push a finger slowly but firmly inside your wet slit...
Fluffy_Bunny: I wriggle in my bonds, helpless, vulnerable, excited...
The_Master: With my thumb against your clit, I push two fingers inside you, easily, you're so wet...
Fluffy_Bunny: I gasp.
The_Master: I roughly thrust my fingers into you, gripping your nipple between my teeth and pulling...
Fluffy_Bunny: I moan, loudly, my body shaking as I am quickly overcome...
The_Master: I continue to push my fingers into you...
Fluffy_Bunny: I shudder as I cum...
The_Master: I kiss you.
Fluffy_Bunny: Sorry. I have to go. It's been great. Bye.
The_Master: I will see you again, my pretty pretty.

I look at the screen, feeling quite breathless. And aroused. I don't know why I fled so quickly, why I chickened out, but it really was getting quite overwhelming. I didn't actually orgasm, but I got very wet, my nipples very hard... and then I realize that the night is still young. Instead of worrying about my shyness, about the emotions I felt while chatting to the American, I decide to turn off my computer and go to bed. And have very erotic thoughts about bondage in an abandoned warehouse...

I'm lying on my bed, naked, still shuddering with the after-effects of my fifth orgasm, when I hear Eliza returning from her night out. The glow appears behind my plant again, and yet again I can't resist spying on her. I quietly get to my feet, nude, and move the plant to one side before I peer into the peephole. I watch her strip off her clothes, until she is almost naked - she is sitting on her bed, wearing just a black thong and hold-up fishnet stockings, looking gorgeous as always. I watch as she reaches under her bed for a bondage magazine - she pulls it out, opens it to a seemingly-random page, and begins to pleasure herself as she studies the pictures intently. I begin to rub my own naked flesh, aroused by her arousal and the excitement of this perverse voyeurism. What would happen if she spotted me watching?

She quickly rolls over to the other side of the bed, and I briefly wonder if she has spotted me watching... I sigh with relief when she returns to her former position, but now holding a shoebox. She opens it, and pulls out two lengths of rope, two pairs of handcuffs and an object I instantly recognise as a ballgag. I watch, transfixed, as she ties her ankles to the foot of the bed, her legs bound wide apart, giving me a wonderful view of the metal of her intimate piercings glinting through her tiny thong. She then opens her mouth wide and pulls the ballgag into it, strapping it tight behind her head, under her dark hair, before she leans back and fixes one handcuff to her right wrist and the other to her left. She then makes sure the keys are within easy reach before she attaches the handcuffs to the head of the bed... and she is helpless... spreadeagled... vulnerable... and I'm feeling even more aroused.

I watch her as she mmmphs into the gag, as she struggles in vain, and I fantasize about breaking into her room and pleasuring her. But then my shyness takes over, and I worry about her rejecting me... I don't know if she's that way inclined, I don't know if she fancies me, I don't know if she'd beg to be released and tell all my friends about my trying to take advantage of her. Perhaps I worry too much. Instead of worrying, I decide to make myself comfortable and enjoy the show.

It seems to go on for hours, and I love every second - my eyes move slowly over her body, taking in every gorgeous detail... I have one hand between my legs, stroking softly, the other hand playing with my rock-hard nipples. She begins to struggle more frantically, and I wonder what she's fantasising about... she reaches for the handcuff key and expertly turns it in the lock on her right wrist, releasing herself - her right hand immediately goes down between her legs, inside her thong, and she rubs herself furiously... and I do likewise. I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning aloud as I get closer and closer, and when I hear a moan for a brief, panicky moment I think it's me, but then I realise it was her and I smile to myself as I watch her cum... and then I bring myself to a shuddering climax.

I move away from the peephole as she continues to release herself, and move the plant back into position. I collapse on my bed, exhausted, my mind awash with strange ideas and fantasies...

"Are you coming?"

"Err, no, thanks," I smile, looking across the table at Eliza. It's Saturday, and she's going shopping for the day. I have other plans.

"Sure?"

"Positive. I think I'll see if I can find my new friend online again."

"You perv. I should never have suggested you go online... what have I unleashed upon internet society?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Sure. Oh well, the shops beckon - see you tonight."

"Bye!"

I return to my room, waving to her as she leaves via the stairwell door. I immediately cross to my computer and go online, heading for the same chatroom as before. But my new friend The_Master isn't there. I pout, suddenly feeling very disappointed and frustrated - what am I going to do with myself all day if he isn't online? I haven't planned for this. I pace around my room while I try to think of some way to satisfy my new-found sexual urges. If only Eliza was back in her room, tied to the bed. I really enjoyed her unknowing performance last night. I move the plant from the peephole and peer into her room - to my surprise, her shoebox full of toys is sitting on her bed. I smile as a plan begins to form in my mind...

I quickly check that the rest of the students who live along the corridor are out, before I stand in front of Eliza's door. Brandishing my credit card, I push it between the door and the doorframe and move it downwards... I gasp as the card slips and falls from my hand, landing inside Eliza's room... and I suddenly wonder what she will think when she returns to find my card in her room... she'll think that I'd tried to break in... Quelling the rising panic, I get my debit card out of my pocket and try again, and this time I succeed in opening her door. I quickly dart into her room and grab her shoebox (and my credit card), and return to my room (closing her door and my door behind me).

I'm panting. I'm excited. I'm usually such a good girl, and this sneaky theft has filled me with adrenaline and really got my heart pumping. No backing out now. It's time I experimented properly with bondage.

My first step is to strip naked - I take everything off, including my glasses. Then, I tie my ankles apart to the foot of the bed - I feel very exposed, and very vulnerable already. Not quite helpless, though, not yet. I grab her ballgag from the box and hold it up in front of my face so I can examine it - the ball looks very big. Not having the courage to back out now, I open my mouth wide and pull the ball between my teeth - I bite down on it and there is no give. My mouth is forced wide apart, and already I'm beginning to drool. I fasten the gag tightly behind my head, and try some experimental moans into it, and I am surprised at how effective it is. Lastly, I place the handcuff keys within easy reach and cuff my wrists to the head of the bed... and I am helpless, vulnerable, spreadeagled like Eliza was last night.

I immediately fantasise about how I got into this situation... captured by some burglar, perhaps, who is even now looting as much as he can fit into his swag bag before he returns to take advantage of me. But my thoughts soon swing to The_Master - perhaps he lured me here, bound me like this, and will soon return to the room to show me the true meaning of pleasure. I can't help but moan into the gag, and have to turn my head to one side to avoid drowning in my own drool. It's then that I realise it's quite cold in my room today... I consider releasing myself so I can put the heating on, but I decide that would be cheating. Instead, I have to endure the chill, and watch as my nipples harden for a variety of reasons.

I'm feeling even more sexually frustrated now... and I decide that it is time to release myself, just as Eliza did to herself, so I can bring myself to orgasm. I reach for the key next to my right hand, surprised at how awkward a manoeuvre it is, and eventually manage to get it in the handcuff lock... it's only when I try to turn it that I realise the key doesn't fit. A sudden wave of panic passes over me when I realise I won't be getting out that way. I turn to the other key and the other handcuff, and take even longer this time (the panic doesn't help) to find that that key doesn't fit either. Both keys are identical, so I can't have mixed them up... so what's happened? These can't be handcuff keys... Eliza must have taken them out of the shoebox sometime. So how am I going to escape?

I struggle, hard, pulling at the handcuffs with all my strength, but can't do anything. I'm utterly helpless, completely trapped, and feel a total fool. I would call for help, but no-one is in... and if they were, they probably wouldn't hear my gagged pleas. I can only hope that Eliza will return, find her missing toys, and go looking for them... I turn my head to the side, my jaw aching from the gag, and begin to sob quietly to myself before I slowly fall asleep...

I wake with a start. It's dark. I'm still bound helpless, in my stupid, stupid predicament. Naked and spreadeagled. I'm thirsty, and I ache all over. And I feel very aroused by the whole situation. I blink, and suddenly notice that I hadn't moved the plant back to cover the peephole. And through the peephole I can see an eye, watching me.

"Hello, my pretty pretty," comes a voice through the wall. Eliza's voice.

I blink, and the eye has gone. Did I imagine it? And, if so, why did I imagine Eliza using The_Master's greeting? While the possibilities swirl in my head, I hear a sound that is both welcome and disturbing... the sound of a credit card being used to open the door to my room. Light fills the room and I turn my head away as Eliza enters... she sits on the bed between my legs, and I look at her. She's smiling.

"You couldn't resist playing with my toys, could you?"

I can only mmmph to reply, and shake my head.

"Especially after I introduced you to the wonderful world of bondage online, my pretty pretty."

So... she was The_Master all along? She had just pretended to go to the Student Union... instead, she had gone to one of the many computer rooms on the campus and found me online and guided me down that dark alley...

"And now you're trapped here, quite helpless and vulnerable, since I switched the keys."

I thought as much.

"I just don't know where to begin... what would The_Master do?"

And, with that, she climbs astride me and I see that she's wearing a huge strap-on dildo... she leans over me and nibbles on my breasts, and all I can do is squirm and groan as she takes complete advantage of my helplessness...