From Online Slut to Real One...
(I wrote this story and originally posted it on Literotica years ago... I still retain copyright. I hope you all enjoy!)
As I readied myself for what was to come, it only took a moment to flashback to how it all started. One night, during a night out with the girls, one of our group blurted out about how she was getting a little satisfaction on the side. She went on to tell us how she learned about internet chat rooms from her son, who used them to keep in touch with his friends.
She started out as an innocent person in the room, and over the months became more and more involved, until she was regularly keeping online company with a stable of men, each deriving whatever mutual pleasure they could by typing dirty and erotic things to each other. She giggled as she told us that it allowed her to be either a giggly 16 year-old teenager or a fully-grown sex goddess that could bring men to their knees at her feet.
As she went on, I could not help but think about how much fun it could be. Maybe reliving some of my past dalliances, or even better, playing out some of the fantasies I wanted to try, but my husband was either unable or unwilling to try. The internet was like an adult fantasyland… Why didn’t I think of it?
My husband Ben and I had not been getting along well of late. He had not even shown an interest in me for the past few months. I like to think of myself as fairly attractive at five feet, four inches tall, 120 lbs. and my measurements are 34C-26-34. I even keep my brown hair down past my shoulder blades, because Ben likes it. Or liked it, at any rate. He was working hard, I knew, and traveled some as well. But for the past several months, it was like he seemed to hate coming home. I would try to talk to him, but usually he was too tired. He didn’t want to discuss it, he didn’t want to discuss anything! I was getting lonely, and couldn’t understand why Ben was acting this way. Finally I just gave up trying, and started to get myself ready to move on.
Late a couple of nights later, I logged in to my first chat room. It was all just a blur, the names, the abbreviations, each person knowing the other. It took a few days, but I eventually began to become accepted, even after I blew off the first few guys who tried to get my personal information, even going so far as to ask me to meet them. Some of the rooms had definite themes. One was a Gorean Retreat, whatever that was, another was a Domination Dungeon. I was even surprised to find a few online Brothels. I found these to be very interesting, as they were run almost like a real business. I even got an online job as a hooker, the online term is “working girl”, at one of the houses. It was so very much fun, being given clients at random, and fulfilling fantasies, his and mine.
The favorite fantasy I got to enjoy was having interracial sex with a black man. I had lost my virginity to a black man, and have lusted for big black cocks ever since. I love my husband, but there is something about being fed a long, fat, dark cock between my parted thighs that gets my motor running! As the months went on, my online activity grew to several times a week, usually for a couple of hours. I grew my own stable to regular men, many of them black. One in particular became my favorite. We would have a hot session of cybersex, and then spend a little bit just chatting, getting to know each other, learning more about how to please each other. I was even forming an emotional attachment to him. As it turned out, I eventually felt comfortable enough with him to be collared as his cyber sex-slave. He and I would meet online and I would fulfill his commands. Many times they were to please him in a particular way. Many others were for me to please others, sometimes with him watching, sometimes not.
I began to get immersed into these roles, to the point I would wear the same clothing in front of my keyboard as I was “wearing” online. Twice, my husband would come home to find me just clicking off the screen, my cheeks flushed, wearing a sheer blouse, miniskirt and heels. I would then attack my him, using his body to play out the online fantasy. I even started to go out during the day, running my errands dressed in revealing outfits, whether is a blouse one-size too small, a satin circle skirt hemmed well above my knees, thigh-high hose and 4-inch heels, or any combination of the above. One thing was sure, I stopped wearing panties unless I had to, and I only wore a bra if I was worried about being arrested for indecent exposure. It was after I started to do this I realized my online fun was more than fun. It was my addiction. I was addicted to being online and playing out fantasies. Some of them pure and sweet, but more of them dirty and nasty. My Master would up the ante to the point I told him where I lived. It turned out he only lived a little over 100 miles away from me. That cyber session made me climax more than once, the very thought of how near he was driving me crazy.
Which brought me to today. My Master finally commanded to meet Him. So I did. And I was introduced to Darin. Darin was true to his descriptions online. He is almost six and a half feet tall, well muscled, with bulging muscles and dark black skin. He was well-dressed, in tan slacks and a maroon shirt, the fabric taut over his frame and muscles. I wore the commanded outfit, a thin, champagne satin halter dress, the circle skirt hemmed above my knees, dark thigh high hose and 4-inch black patent-leather pumps. No other clothing was permitted. We had a small lunch as we talked, and I made it a point to tease him a little as we ate. Even though to date our relationship had been online, there was no doubt Darin was going to up the ante, so to speak. It was just a matter of time. Darin spoke of how he wanted to do things to me, and it made such an impression I could feel the wetness growing between my legs. Of course, since I was panty-less, I was making a growing spot on the seat, too!
Darin pondered aloud about taking me across the street and down the alley, then having me grab my ankles and feeling his cock inside me from behind. Another was to perhaps restrain my wrists overhead and after he was through with me, leaving me to the homeless men who might find me. Each fantasy became wilder and wilder, until my vagina was burning to be used. Fast, furiously, and often. Finally, Darin motioned for us to leave, and I happily placed myself on his arm, making sure each step made my hips sway a little more than needed, the hem of my skirt flipping about to tease any other men who saw me, and letting them know I belonged to Darin.
Darin led me down the street, the passing cars creating a brief maelstrom of wind to play with my skirt, exposing more of me than a proper woman should. And I loved it! My heart raced as Darin’s big, meaty hand cupped my rear end, and slipped around to grope my breast. We stopped mid-stride and he turned me to face him, a deep longing in his eyes as my upturned face stared into his. I wrapped my arms around his neck and parted my lips to kiss him, passionately and longingly. My voice moaning as his tongue mashed over mine, his hands on my hips as he pulled me to him. My nipples rubbed against his hard-muscled chest, the thin satin covering them not doing much to insulate our bodies, or conceal my growing arousal.
Darin broke our kiss, my lips upturned in a wide smile. All thoughts of my husband were well and buried in the back of my mind, hidden under piles of lust and raw sexual desire to mate with this man I saw as a man superior to my husband. Darin led me back to the restaurant, and to our cars. I started to mine when Darin pulled me back.
“My slut rides with me.” he ordered.
I shrugged my shoulders and got into his car with him, letting the hem of my short skirt rise as it needed, and sat in the passenger seat, the tops of my thigh-high hose exposed to him. Darin then reached behind the seat and dug in a paper bag for a moment for something, then turned to face me, one hand still d****d over the seat.
“Online, you play a good slut, obedient, pleasing, and willing. You play a good fantasy. Are you ready to make it for real?” he asked.
My heart was pounding at the thought of being used by this Ebony god, my body quivering lightly at the thought of being taken by him. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t talk for a moment, then I cleared my throat and answered him.
“I love to roleplay with you. Your fantasies are so erotic, you make me climax every time you play with me. If you want me, I am yours to take.”
A wide smile crossed his face, his teeth a stark contrast to his skin. Darin then brought his hand up over the seat, and he placed a polished chrome collar on my neck, a connecting ring on the front, and the latch on the back. He then took a wire tie and secured it closed.
“Now… whose slut are you?”
I swallowed nervously. I knew I was breaking my wedding vows, but right then, I didn’t care. “I am yours…” I repeated a line we had used online before, “I am yours to use as you desire. I will please you, or whomever you wish, whenever you wish, wherever you wish!”
My fingers reached up and felt the cool metal around my neck, the thick, wide band of chrome around my neck easily visible, the edges rounded to ensure I would not be hurt by it.
“You will wear this when you are with me and when you are not. This means when you are on your way to me, and on your way back. You may remove it only for showering and for work, if needed.” With that, he put the transmission in gear, and we drove off. Darin shot me a questioning look, and I started directing him to my house.
As we pulled up front, Darin reached back, and snapped a thin chain on my collar, tugging it to remind me of my place, and his intent to use it, if need be. I merely looked at him, giving the slightest of nods to confirm my ownership. I was a black-owned slut now, and needed to live the part! I followed him out of the car, letting my skirt billow about as a car drove by, the tops of my thigh-high hose evident to the driver, a man I recognized as living down the street.
“Remember… you are forbidden to wear panties. Your pussy is mine now, and I expect you to be available to me whenever I desire. And your pussy is off-limits to anyone else!” Darin ordered, further to claim his prize. My jaw dropped for a moment, realizing what he meant. My husband was not going to get any loving from his wife anymore. It took me a moment to realize that since I was planning on leaving Ben anyways, this would not be such a big deal.
I admitted us to the house, and Darin immediately pulled the chain taut, drawing my face to his, where we kissed again in the wide-open doorway, his pull on the chain holding my lips mashed to his. I began to melt in his kiss, his free hand groping my butt, first rubbing the soft satin of my skirt, then reaching under it and directly caressing my bare skin. My hands were up on his shoulders, my French-manicured nails a stark contrast to his shirt, and soon to be his nearly black skin. My lips were meshed to his, and I felt the pleasure of his tongue on mine. It felt so good to be wanted by such a big, powerful man!
Our kiss broken, Darin pulled me inside, and wasted surprisingly little time in getting to his chief desire. At his bidding, I knelt before him and released his pants, hooking my thumbs into his pants and underwear to draw them down. He casually stepped out of them, then used the chain to pull my face to his crotch, and his manhood. My eyes were shining as I saw his size, easily half-again the size of my husband, and the dark, throbbing shaft was growing with every beat of his heart!
I could not resist, and leaned forward to place a long, slow lick along his amazing black monster, my own juices flowing just from the anticipation of being penetrated by such a large man. I heard Darin groan as I took my fingernail, and lightly traced along his length. My hand cupped his sac, his semen-laden jewels heavy in my grasp. My nails lightly tickling the base of his shaft and testicles, a smile on my face as I felt his legs stiffen from the building of sexual passion within him.
I did not have a chance to play with him further, as he yanked my chain up sharply. “Not here!” he commanded. “I want to fuck you on your bed. Show your husband who’s in charge of you, now!” With that, he strode into the back of the house, my legs scrambling a bit to keep up as I tried not to fall off my heels with his pace. His grasp on the chain tightened as he entered my bedroom, and he yanked my to my bed, my voice yelping as I landed sprawled out on the auburn-satin comforter, the hem of my skirt laying about my waist, and letting my moistness be exposed to my new Master.
Darin pulled further on the chain, commanding me to get onto the bed, so I kicked my legs and flexed my arms to follow my collar, and the chain attached. Each time he pulled, I felt the coolness of the smooth collar on my neck, and my heart racing as I became more wet. I began to realize that one of the reasons I was having marital troubles, was that Ben never acted as a man who just took what he wanted. He was always very caring, very sensitive, and never harmed a hair on my head. But maybe that was what I wanted! I felt my collar jerk once as the leash was tied around the leg of the bed frame, and I was effectively held in place. My eyes never left Darin as he rounded the foot of my bed.
One of his hands was softly stroking his cock, the length making my mind race with fantasies of pleasure, while his enormous sac just below swayed with each step. It was then I stopped to ask the vital question. “Master?” I cooed softly. “What happens if I get pregnant?” The answer was not what I expected.
“It better be me that did it!” he growled. “Or somebody I let fuck you. Otherwise, you’re going to get rid of that baby!” Darin clambered up the bed, his black skin a soft contrast to the satin comforter. “I give you a baby, then I’ll let your old man have you. You’ll be more worthy!”
Darin had grasped my ankles as he talked, and lifted my legs up as he drew closer, until his knees were at my waist. His hot, throbbing cock was laying along my crotch and to my belly as he began to dry hump me just a bit, his pelvic thrusts drawing the head of his cock back and forth, teasing my sweetness. My lips parted slightly as my eyes closed, the fantasy of being invaded by such a large man seizing my breath. My hips rotated to accept him, when he was ready. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long.
I felt a strange, new sensation between my legs, it seemed like a baseball bat was being f***ed past my labia. My back arched as Darin mounted me, forcing my labia apart, the membranes straining to stretch around his massive, and magnificent black cock. I gasped as I accepted his body into mine, my voice a long, low moan with my breath. “Ohhh, God! You are so h-u-u-ge!” I exclaimed to him. Darin’s only reply was to snort.
“You expected something different. Bitch?”
Darin lay his body onto mine, his weight driving me fully into the mattress, and he extended his tongue past my lips, probing for my tongue to caress his. As we kissed, his rhythmic thrusting began. My eyes popped open the first time he ground his body against my clit, and I squealed in pleasure as his thrusts sent individual shots of passion through me. He rhythm of long, deep thrusts, and rapid fast ones both teasing and pleasing to me. I was able to glance down at his cock, and the sight of his lengthy black pole contrasting with my pale skin made me tingle all the more.
Our voices became a serious of a****listic grunts, moans, and gasps as he continued to impale me with his cock, each stroke taking me further and further into his control. I fully became his when I had my first climax. Darin was not nearly ready when I felt that wonderful shudder and release, one that I felt all to infrequently with my husband. I doubt I had half-a-dozen orgasms with Ben the previous year! Darin continued to feed himself into my vagina, each time a delicious morsel of pleasure that meant more each time.
Too soon, Darin was ready, and his thrusts turned into a harsh pounding, my voice crying out each time he drove home, begging for another, and another. I was so closed to another, more powerful climax, when Darin abruptly asked me a question.
“Whose slut are you?” he demanded. “Are you willing to be my slut? And all that means?”
He continued to thrust into me, but changed it so I was able to focus, and to talk.
“Wh-what? What do you mean?” I replied with a question of my own. I was having the best sex of my life to that point, but I wasn’t going to become a d**g-queen or something for it.
Each question I asked was met with one of Darin’s awe-inspiring thrusts against my clit, and I whimpered with each one, the pleasure so great I wished it would hurt, but just a little.
Darin repeated the questions, each time forcing a shot pf pure pleasure though my body.
I was so close to my own climax, I would have considered selling my own k**s, if I had them. I submitted to his conquest.
“Yes, Darin. Yes, Master.” I began, using my online language. “I-I am your collared slave. Ready for your pleasure, ready for your desires. I will serve you however you want!”
With that, Darin regrouped his thrusts, and then put me over the edge, and I felt the strongest, most lasting climax I had ever known. I think I even screamed as it happened. Every muscle in my body was taut as I clawed at the bedspread, my pussy clenched tightly on Darin’s ebony rod. Evidently, my climax was also enough to send Darin over the edge, and he also climaxed, flooding my womb with his black seed.
My last recollection before I passed out was Darin spooning me as he wrapped one of his massive arms around me. We slept a contented nap for some time.