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My ex banged the door in my face. Two minutes later, the CD I’d asked for back came sailing out the upstairs window, landing on my car. The paint on the hood took a dent, but the CD rolled off the windshield, took a turn, and landed at my feet, intact.
I could see Harold in there, looking out the window, smiling. The divorce was last Monday. Harold had been an item for a year; at first a secret then not so much. He was a doctor and worth a couple mill. Me, only half of my first, but still sub-standard to Mary.
I’d been the last to know and that rare CD had been something she’d taken for spite. I let it sit and pulled away, determined to never speak to her again.
I hadn’t asked a lot, just some play-acting and a little dress-up maybe once a month, and she’d even asked to do it for me the last time. My submissive moments had clearly been too much for her though, and she’d started looking around for a ‘real man’
Men aren’t supposed to have fantasies of submission, don’t you know. Even if we act macho ninety percent of the rest of the time. Men like me feel guilty about it, hide it, feel pretty bad about it when rejected and even when not.
I pulled into my driveway of my new house. We’d sold the old one, she’d taken a lump sum, and I’d opted for this one out in the country edge of town, a few neighbors, but not so close on the country road with the big mailboxes out front and the farmer’s field across the way. With the move down, I felt like I was starting over and didn’t have bills. In fact, I had a load in the bank and planned on retiring at forty, maybe ten years from now.
Two bedrooms, garage, shed and trees. Work as an auditor paid decent if you had the right kind of clients, and I did a lot of my work at home.
What to do? I parked myself in front of the computers, where I had a half days work waiting.
I had the shades drawn, the curtains pulled and the door locked. It was just me and me. Maybe I’ll try that e-Harmony thing and just type in, Submissive male, most days normal, good looking, easy to get along with, wants panties, bra and an apron on the 15th of the month, but otherwise tame. Nah, women didn’t like tame. They wanted walks in the park, romantic dinners and the spatula treatment from men who acted like linebackers.
The computer screen lit up, and I went to some video porn sites. It’s amazing what you can see on the internet for free. And, you don’t have to get personal even once. Trust me, I don’t want anyone else involved. I’ve had enough of feeling guilty about relationships. Just videos and stories and cyber junk. Even chat’s risky. I don’t do that anymore. Then again, I was single again, so why the high standard? Well, because I really didn’t need it. But still, I was feeling lonely. I bit my lip and fought the impulse because things like that are always frustrating and superficial and in the end of no worth.
I shimmied out of my pants and shirt. I had my dick out. Monday was three days away. I booted my old, now non-work computer, the desktop, not my laptop. I used it for backups and porn, but otherwise I was a laptop man.
Maybe I should go on some clothing site and buy myself a full French maid outfit? Or maybe I need cured from my sexual compulsions? Where’s Doctor Phil for sex addicts? No, I’m not going to buy anything. I’m just going to cruise and be reasonable, I determined. Everything on the web is free. I never bought anything. There’s nothing out there that more real than free-and-distant can already get.
I went to YouTube. That is sometimes cool because you often find real people, as opposed to the models and professionals on those model and professional video sites. I typed in FEMDOM. Damn, but the commercial freaks were jamming that up too. Like one out of every hundred looks like a regular housewife playing with guys on the net. She’s got kids and a husband, I figure, and if they knew what she was doing they’d probably croak.
Lot of feet kissing videos that spam every single day. The opposite from femdom down on the farm.
I’m looking for a woman using a fly swatter instead of a whip, a rope instead of buckle-cuffs and wearing a housecoat or jeans with a flower-print top instead of vinyl. It’s all about her enjoying it and being obtainable. Real means real people, real props, real lifestyle, or at least it does to me.
I do a little tour, letterotica, bdsmlibrary, elisesutton.homestead and asstr. From there it’s xhamster and yuvutu. All of that was good, and I snatched a bunch of good stories and even some videos with my You Tuber software. Alright, back to Youtube. Maybe something real is out there though, not so much in the flesh, but at least in video?
I stumbled upon a couple of weird ones: Little Robbie’s Wallet Draining and Ebony Financial Domination & Money Slavery. A couple of guys had let some mistress remotely access their computers and they’d taken him to video sites to buy videos and some minor Amazon gifts. One ran up a bit of a bill, but that was probably extreme from one of her regulars and maybe even staged.
The way the lady dominated these guys seemed pretty impressive, but at the same time, I’d just been pretty dumped and what would it cost for a good hooker for the night, a thousand? This is assuming it didn’t get me the clap or in jail. In fact, it had to be cheaper than a visit to my lawyer, which I was thankfully over with.
When I thought it over, I decided I could set up a webcam from my laptop and take a cool video of some domme taking me to her clips site and selling me a bunch of videos. I might even like the videos and find them worth at least some of the cost. More than likely she’d just browse my porn on my computer and laugh at me, costing me nothing. It was tempting, even at its worst, so I looked around the net for someone who was into it. It was a kind of interpersonal thing, but the computer component to it had me thinking not so much.
If it got too bad I’d just pull the plug.
There was PCANYWHERE, LOGMEIN, RADMIN, GOTOMYPC and TEAMVIEWER, as well as some others. I noticed a lot of references to teamviewer when I googled teamviewer and femdom together, so I did a web search and found a personal site with a e-mail to a Mistress Becky. Out of all the sites I visited, she hadn’t looked all that professional, was a little overweight and not overdressed. There weren’t any pictures of dungeons with plastic bricks and equipment on her page. It seemed kind of normal, other than the usual list of likes and a reference to how much she enjoyed money slaves and Teamviewer. I wanted femdom, but I didn’t want someone slick.
Becky was a brunette, maybe forty, large breasts, but large everything else as well, maybe two hundred pounds. She sat in front of a computer, and had a couple of cheesy shots, one of her sitting at a computer, but another in ankle boots and a mid-length dress, like a governess.
I sent an e-mail, and realized the chances of her actually responding were between slight and none. Probably she was retired from playing domme; these ladies didn’t do this forever.
Teamviewer was easy to get. I had that loaded in five minutes tops. It seemed easy to work, just from browsing. You had this access word and then you put in a password yourself. The access word was how someone found your computer, and the password was how they were allowed in. You just gave each number to whoever needed in, usually to do repairs. With both numbers, a person could be on your computer and pretty much do whatever you did on the computer.
Should I try another site and send another e-mail? I decided that was just spreading the pain. I only wanted to make that cool video and beat-off to it for the next ten years. Shoot, I almost came just sending the e-mail. I didn’t want ten women hitting me up for a shopping trip on the web, so I left it at that and wavered from regretting it and wanting it like on a cycle of ten seconds each.
I went back to looking at porno sites, and even pulled up a short story I was in the process of writing about sissy maids and wives. After a while I thought I should go to my e-mail server and list Becky as spam, given I’d done all that on a whim and was siding on regretting the impulse already.
Maybe I should try some chat? I was single, why not. I pulled up my web cam. I already had the one on my laptop on, it off to the side, looking at my keyboard and computer, and pretty well focused; it was a good one with zoom, mostly on my desktop screen and keyboard. I was letting it roll, thinking about pruning it if anything neat happened. But, I turned on my old, clunky webcam on my desktop and tries to figure out how chat channels worked on the newer operating systems.
“YOU’VE GOT MAIL!
Oh wow, probably spam. I pulled up the mail, and there was Becky. My heart raced as I read:
***
Hi, Joe. Got your e-mail, boy. You’re on for some fun, huh. I’m not too busy and kind of itching to add another lackey to my boytoys. Are you available right now?
If so, send me an e-mail back, or send a chat on messenger. Tell me a few short things about what turns you on.
I’m waiting for you, slave. I’d love to take ownership over you and pry into your personal life.
Hee hee.
Mistress Becky
***
That sounded kind of like a nice lady. It sort of eased my mind, to tell you the truth. Alright, I was game. I sent an e-mail back:
***
I’m kind of new to this. What kind of thing do you do? I like to play maid from time to time, but don’t have any experience.
Mistress.
Slave Joe.
***
Two minutes later, I got this reply:
If you want to Teamviewer, I have the software and can play for a while.
You did mention it, my sissy.
I kind of take over and browse. Men find it thrilling, knowing I have so much control. See their little secrets. Look at their porn. Make them do what I want them to do. Or do it for them. Do you want to be controlled, Joe? Do you want to give up control of your computer to a sadistic bitch, slave? I think you do. I think you can’t help it. I think you’re going to send me what I want now.
I want your Teamviewer number and password. Don’t play around or I’m ending these e-mails. You know you want to do it. Don’t make me mad.
Mistress Becky.
***
Wow, that had me hot. She really wanted to do it. She wanted to dominate me through my computer. Oh well, it wasn’t my good laptop, so what could she really do? I brought up the Teamviewer program. Taking some breaths, I sent an e-mail back, giving her my numbers:
356 219 844
Password: 30fgea
When I hit send, I almost shit myself. Good God, what had I just done. Time went by. Five, ten, fifteen seconds. After half a minute, I thought maybe she was just fooling with me and maybe wouldn’t do this odd thing that promised to really put me into subspace.
All of a sudden, remote access showed on Teamviewer. I moved my mouse, but someone else seemed to move it next. I decided to let her have it, and see what was going on. She moved it to Start, then programs, and brought up messenger chat. A window came up, which she moved to the far right of the screen. Next I knew, a camera view materialized. I’d never used any of that stuff, but I realized I was looking at Becky.
***
She typed:” Hi there, slave. I’m in.
Joe: Gee, I’m kind of nerveous.
Becky: Mistress.
Joe: Yes, Mistress Becky.
Becky: Better, slave.
Joe: So, how does this work?
Becky: Easy. I’m going to poke around and you’re going to be very embarrassed.
Joe: Yes, Mistress Becky.
Becky: Good. Now I’ll set Teamviewer up and poke around. You sit tight with your hands on your prick,
slave. You can to that, can’t you, slave?
Joe: Yes, Mistress.
Becky: Good boy.
***
The mouse moved to Teamviewer’s Extras and then Option tag. A menu came down. She clicked on the icon for bringing up Teamviewer with windows. A menu showed saying Configure Permanent Access. Eight dots typed in, and then eight more where the menu asked to repeat the password. The Cursor hit OK, and the menu window disappeared.
A new window showed, Permanent Access Configured. You can access this computer using, 356219844 and the access number you’ve just defined. She clicked OK for that too, and the menu disappeared.
Security tab was hit next. Beside Windows Login, Allowed for Administrators Only was picked. I noticed Full Access was showing in a second window, but to be honest, I really didn’t notice the details of any of this until I played back the video of it later from my laptop. At the time I was looking at the highlights and at the cam shot of Becky hovering over her keyboard, looking up at her screen, and licking her lips as if in concentration. The fact is, she did all of this pretty fast. The lady definitely knew what she was doing.
So far I’d just seen the fact that she’d made Teamviewer open with Windows, put in a permanent password to gain access and set it up for administrator use. I wasn’t too sure what that meant.
I was horny though. I had to slow down with my dick or I’d have cum right then. A woman was playing around in my computer. It didn’t seem all that big a deal though. I’d not even had Teamviewer a few minutes earlier. Who cared if she messed it up.
She opened Advanced Options and clicked on Disallow Teamviewer Shutdown and Accept from Trusted Accounts. Obviously she wanted the program to come up and stay. I didn’t want to turn it off, that’s for sure. I was digging the domination so far, trying to take it all in as fast as I could.
That menu dropped, but she brought it back up and hit a new menu item that mysteriously showed saying (and it happened so fast I didn’t see it until I watched the playback), Full Access Control When a Partner is Connected to the Window’s Login Screen. That dropped really quickly as she scrolled the sidebar to that menu down.
After moving the bar, more stuff showed down below. Under Teamviewer Options, Changes Require Administrative Rights on this Computer was clicked, and a password inserted. Once again, the password only showed as dots and she had to repeat it, but she had good typing skills and in no time at all, hit OK. The menu screen dropped out entirely.
***
She went over to the messenger screen and started typing:
Becky: I’m just setting up Teamviewer so I can use it. You’ve been a very good boy, not interfering, slave. We’re going to have lots of fun, I think.
Joe: Yes, Mistress. I’m kind of freaking out.
Becky: Well that’s the point. I’m here to scare the shit out of you, slave. Why don’t you lick your fingers and play with your titties for me?
Joe: Yes, Mistress. (I did.)
Becky: Oh, that’s sweet. (Oh my God, she could see me. She must have activated my camera too.)
Becky: Now, I’ll just be fixing myself as a user, so I can play.
Joe: Yes, Mistress Becky.
Becky: Put those fingers on your sissy tits, Joe. I didn’t say you could quit. There you go. That’s a good little bitch.
***
She moved right down to Start, the Run, then typed in CMD.
A window opened up that reminded me of my old DOS days. It wasn’t the kind of box I usually played with, being more of a computer user than programmer. She typed in:
net user Becky * /add
Password showed, but when she typed it in twice, not even the dots showed.
She went right to typing,
net localgroup administrators Becki /add
A message showed, saying she’d been successful.
***
Okay, I thought, so she’s added herself as an administrator.
That ought to make it easier for her to poke around, I figured. It seemed a bit over the top, but it was also hot. I wanted to touch my dick, but then I realized she was watching me, and it kind of felt embarrassing to know I’d been beating off before, when I didn’t know that. I licked my fingers again and kept tormenting my nipples.
***
Finally, she typed: net user Administrators *
The password came and went twice, followed by the message, The command completed successfully.
She followed that with: net user Joe *
Again, the password typing was invisible.
She typed: net localgroup administrators
It showed Administrator
Joe
Becky
***
Before I could read any more, the window went blank.
I almost had a heartattack, thinking she’d destroyed the computer, but it came right back. She brought up the camera and messenger block, moved it to the right and wrote:
Becky: I’ll have to make you a user, Joe. Otherwise you’ll not be able to log on and enjoy my new computer.
Joe: ??? What do you mean?
Becky: Don’t worry. I’m fixing you up so you can
login. You can’t use Joe anymore. It has a new
password that I’m not letting you know. I prefer to give you a name more fitting your new station. Come on, you’re going to love it, you slut.
Joe: ??? What do you m
I kept typing, and nothing happened. My God, she’d somehow blocked my keyboard from working.
Becky: Did I tell you to stop playing with your sissy nippled, slave?
I started to type, but realized it was futile. I licked my fingers and started playing with my nipples again. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what had I gotten myself into? The computer was probably going to have to be trashed after this. In a way, thinking like that liberated me a little. I’d just let her fuck it up and destroy it when done. I didn’t need it, and it was due a new one anyway, being three years old.
She opened up that CMD line again, and typed:
net localgroup administrators Joe /delete
net user Beckyssissybitch * /add
She typed in the password, taking her time on that, apparently.
Over in the messenger screen she wrote:
Becky: Your new password is. SissYmaid847229782cOcksucker20572047230RuInEDmoneyPiG89783541612938
Becky: You had better write that down before the screen moves past. Oh, the look on your face is
precious. Come on, it’s only a little work, typing
it in. Slaves should be put to work, don’t you think?
I don’t see you writing. I’d advise you get busy, slut.
I grabbed a pen, and pulled some paper out of the printer.
Becky: Do that while sucking your right thumb, slut.
I did, and quickly spelled out with my left hand,
SissYmaid847229782cOcksucker20572047230RuInEDmoneyPiG89783541612938.
Becky: Don’t forget it’s case sensitive, bitch. I want to see your mouth saying, Yes Mistress Becky. That’s better, bitch.
Becky: Now I’m going to work a little more at keeping you in line, then we can get down to negotiating your new status in my stable of owned people.
She went back to Start, Run, and typed, gpedit.msc. She hit Administrative, then Control Panel, and before I knew it, opened a screen, disabling access.
From there it was Administrative Templates, System, Cnt-alt-del Options, remove task manager, and did that, whatever that did. It did blank the screen for a second, seemingly for some kind of windows reset.
In the same Cnt-alt-del Options menu, she disabled some kind of Remove Computer Lock deal.
Administrative Templates, Windows Component, Microsoft Management, Restricted Permitted, Computer Management, disable.
***
I tried to type something in, but my keyboard was locked again.
Becky: Alright, so we’re going to start you off light. I’m going to look around my new computer and see what kind of filth you’re into.
She moved to start, then search, and typed in *.jpg. When a few showed, she found one that had a sexy name on it and right clicked up properties. Just like that she found the folder under which I had all my porn.
Two windows popped up, and she grabbed my main porn folder and moved it over to the window on the right. The little flying folder started yanking it over.
Next she found doc files and all sorts of personal correspondents and business information copied over to one of her folders, which I began to realize were on her computer and not mine. What all was in that, I wondered, daring not to think of it.
Becky: I’m copying all your porn and some sensitive materials to help keep your attention. I want to see what kind of freak you are, boy. What kind of freak are you going to be? A sissy, of course, among other things. All you want to wear dresses, but what else? Go ahead and type, slut.
Joe: This is pretty intense, Mistress.
Becky: You’re always wanted a real Mistress, haven’t you? Be happy I left you copies, though getting to them will require permission. Well, now you have a Mistress who owns you, cock, balls and ass. Now, I’m going to clean up your screen some, but first I’ll be logging in as you. Please be patient, I will need to put in your ridiculous, slutty password.
The screen blanked, and then she came back on. I watched her type in, Beckyssissybitch, but she put the password in fast, probably some kind of cut and paste. I tried typing, but found the keyboard stuck off again. The camera wasn’t up. All of a sudden, program icons started moving and were dropped into the recycling bin that was soon emptied. New icons took their place. One was notepad. Another was the camera icon. I had a program for ripping videos that came up. A picture editor remained. Internet Explorer remained. Three folders were set up on the desktop and labeled, Assigned Pics, Assigned writing and Allowed study material. It seemed so little to choose from.
Notepad came up, and she typed: Try explorer, or to find your files.
I tried finding My Computer, and failed. I had no Control Panel at all. Explorer didn’t access my drives. I couldn’t even bring up My Programs. I had no way of looking at any folders or drives.
She wrote: Good. Think of it as my computer. I’ll decide what you can do while slaving at it. If I want you to have access to something, I’ll put the folder on my new slave Joe desktop.
The screen went blank, and returned as Becky logging in, who had lots of icons on her homepage. I began to realize I’d not have much control or even access to my own stuff. She had full access to everything, and I mean everything.
She immediately brought up the camera and notepad.
She wrote. You get one hour of time. Then I want you to turn off the monitor, but leave the computer on. From this moment on, the computer will remain on at all times, but with the screen blank until the time I tell you to turn it on and start your time of slaving for me. I’ll know because the camera will be on and the room lights off. Do you understand me, slave? I will be leaving assignments and other fun things for a slave to do, but you will have to leave the computer on, or I’ll end this special relationship and see what mischief I can come up with, regarding what I already know about you, which is substantial, I imagine, once I look over your files.
All of a sudden, my browser came up. She went to Craigslist for my hometown, found a gay personal ad, and hit the e-mail on it. My e-mail came up. She typed in, Tell me more, big guy, then hit send.
I’m just teasing him, but who knows, he may reply, she typed. If you’re not nice, I might invite him over. My favorites came up, and I noticed some kind of blink on the screen, like she’d taken a snapshot. The list was three pages long, and the screen blinked three times.
I found the keyboard free. I typed: Yes, Mistress. But, please don’t do that. I’m not gay. Don’t mess with my e-mail, please. I beg you.
She wrote: Good to see I have your attention. Now, you may not be gay, but you are my sissy slave, so we have to get you started. For your hour, you will go on the web and look for pictures of penises. I like penises, and want a collection. I want your picture folder on the desktop full of at least 200 pictures of men with their cocks hanging. Your hour starts now. Log in, and get busy. Then log off, and go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow at 6 AM. and I have a lot more for you to do then. Maybe I’ll let you buy me something inexpensive on Amazon. I do want to start you off light. If you don’t do what I ask, I’ll only ask for something more humiliating. If you comply, I’ll show some mercy and we can negotiate.
The screen went blank and the login screen appeared. Oh my God. I had an hour to find two hundred pictures of dicks. Then I had to turn the monitor off. What if she logged in while I was asleep? What would she be doing? What had just happened to me?
I got busy going to site after site, finding men with their dicks hanging out, and dragging the pictures into the folder provided. I had to work frantically, and in the end didn’t even have time to see if I’d found enough of them before time was up, and I dutifully logged off.
Little did I know that while I slept fretfully, she was up early, putting Keylogger on my hard drive. Things were about to get much more interesting before they got much worse.
I awoke when the alarm went off at 5:45 AM. Sitting bolt-upright, my mind raced as I said, “Oh my God! What have I done?”
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