Tested by Her Web Master (Web Master #2) (6 page)

But I needed to do it because I was trying to be a good sub to Quentin, didn’t I? If I refused to comply with one of BA’s tasks, especially one that wasn’t mostly sexually based, was I defying BA? And, in defying BA, was I really defying Quentin? Or was I just being difficult? My head was spinning, and I didn’t know which way was up anymore, which was probably why I went along with BA’s juvenile task.

I did manage to complete this task successfully, though it was more difficult than I thought it was going to be.

First I called a drugstore as he suggested. I told them I was looking for "bearded alpha" which I thought might be for beard or hair growth. I said it might be in a bottle or a tube. I wasn't sure but my father-in-law had asked me to get some for him. They looked it up in their computer and said they didn't have it. That call lasted three minutes.

My second call was to a home improvement store. I told them my husband asked me to find a product called “bearded alpha.” I figured if I played dumb, the call would last longer. When the man seemed clueless, I said I thought it might be a plant. They transferred me to the garden section where the lady said she didn't have it. So I asked her if she had any other bearded lilies or any other kinds of plants. She said no, but I listened to her tell me some of the other flowers and plants she recommended and how much they cost. Then I asked her to repeat some of it, telling her I needed to write it down. I was able to make that call six minutes.

Next, I called a grocery store and told them the same thing I told the drugstore. The guy went and looked for it, but came back and said they didn't have it. Again, a three-minute call.

When I called a big box store, I fortunately got transferred several times and that took up time. I finally got to their pharmacy department and asked her about "bearded alpha," which I thought was a hair growth product for the face. She looked but didn’t find anything so I asked what she recommended for fuller beard growth. She didn’t really have any ideas, but that kept her on the phone longer. That call lasted eight minutes.

My final call was to a barber shop. This place had been around since my father was a boy, and I felt kinda bad bothering the old guys who worked there. When I started that call I knew it needed to be five minutes long for me to successfully complete the task, so I was prepared to say anything to keep those fellows on the line that long. When the man who answered said that he didn’t know anything about a “bearded alpha,” I asked him if he could please ask some of the other guys in the shop. He told me to hold on, and I think they forgot about me. The man finally came back and said that he was sorry, but nobody knew about it. To drag it out, I asked him the store hours and what holidays they were closed on. That call wound up being seven minutes.

At first I felt totally silly prank calling people, like I was asking them if their refrigerator was running. But the more I got into the task, the more goal-oriented I became, and my main objective was completing the task and having enough total minutes to earn my reward.

Fucking myself while calling the different stores added some intrigue to the task. While I was on hold or while the person on the other end of the line was looking for the fake product, I was able to enjoy it. Other than perhaps taking a deep breath here and there, I did a good job keeping my composure. During the last call I moaned once while I was on hold, but beyond that, I remained under control the entire time. Of course when I had to talk with the people I became distracted from the masturbatory aspects.

Afterward, since I had a total of more than twenty-five minutes, I buzzed my clit and made myself come. Since I’d been aroused for an extended period of time, the release was even more welcome and left me weak in the knees. A great orgasm. Well earned.

When I came down, I typed up my report and sent it to BA.

While the task sounded like something that would have been too immature for MC to have had anything to do with its origins, I could definitely spot MC’s influence in the dirty talk BA used to communicate with me.

Sophie,

Good girl... Sounds like you used your imagination and fucked that hole like the whore MC has told me you are. Did you ever wonder if the person on the other end of the phone was suspicious of anything?

Did you care whether it was a man or woman you were talking to? Did you like having your dirty secret to share with others?

Did you like being a slut and them not knowing?

Did you like using my name to remind you of who was tasking you?

When you open this, I want that cunt stroked thirty times while you count backward. After your strokes, you will reach in with two fingers and taste those sweet fuck juices. I want to know what you taste like.

BA

Again, it struck me how his dirty words could ignite my lust. Even though I didn’t know him, I could feel myself slowly falling down the filthy slope into BA’s carnal control.

Sir,

I really did such a good job of keeping my composure that I am pretty sure the person on the other end of the line didn't realize what I was doing. It didn't make a difference to me if it was a man or a woman I was talking to because I wasn't really thinking about them. Of course I thought of you when asking for "bearded alpha" and that was kinda hot. I also liked having the dirty secret of knowing that I was playing with myself. It felt slutty, and I liked feeling like a dirty little whore and them not knowing, but I’m not big on exhibitionism. It simply doesn't give me a thrill. I know other subs are into it, but it just doesn't do much for me.

I’m not sure how to describe what I taste like. Tangy and sweet, maybe? I think you would love how I taste though. I posted what you asked me to. I hope you are pleased, Sir.

~Sophie

As I wrote that, I wondered if I’d crossed the line. How much was I supposed to flirt with BA? How much was beyond acceptable? Sometimes it didn’t seem like there were limits in the way he and Quentin talked when they were acting as an online Dom. Yet there was a difference between the real world and the fantasy world that existed only on the internet.

The trick was figuring out where one ended and the other began.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It had been a rough day at school. The children’s emotions were running high and one of the little boys cut off a hunk of one of the little girl’s pigtails. I left a message for both childrens’ parents and braced myself for the less than pleasant conversations that would follow once they returned my calls.

The minute I got home, I strapped on my running shoes and ankle weights, grabbed Felix’s leash, clipped it to him and headed out the door. It was an unseasonably hot day for October, and I could have done without the stifling humidity, but it was only a walk and something I could handle for twenty minutes at least. Hell, I needed an endorphin release and a change of focus.

I turned up the volume on my headset, but my mind kept drifting back to the “come session” I’d had the night before at BA’s direction. I’d been by myself, not on the phone or internet with him when I’d done it, but I’d done something I felt slightly uneasy about.

I’d thought of him when I masturbated. Perhaps, since BA gave me the task, that was okay. Maybe Quentin would have expected that from me and wouldn’t be bothered by it in the least.

But it bothered me. It made me feel like I was straying. Because in my heart, I almost was.

The busier Quentin was, and the more he pushed me toward BA, the more I embraced my new role as BA’s submissive.

I’d lain there fiddling with myself, imagining what BA looked like. He’d have a long, well-manicured, sexy beard—the kind all those twenty-something hipster models sported. I bet it would tickle, but in a good way… BA would have piercing blue eyes. The kind that made him seem haunted and like you never really knew what was going on behind them, but you were dying to find out.

He’d have an easy laugh, and he’d love sports. The kind of guy who played a pick-up game of basketball at the local gym every Saturday afternoon or Fridays after work. Though I had no idea what his name was, in my fantasy it was Bruce. Okay, partially from Bruce Wayne, masked crusader, and partially because it worked as the “B” in “Bearded Alpha.”

I relished the idea of being desired by more than one man. It was every woman’s fantasy, wasn’t it? I hadn’t known it was mine until Quentin introduced me to the idea, but now I was taken with it.

Ultimately, whoever BA was, he wasn’t the one for me. That was Quentin. But BA loomed large enough to swoop in and threaten our love once Quentin realized the sexual hold he had over me, the sexual power he wielded… I had a rich fantasy life, and these days it was starring BA.

I was walking quickly and tripped over a rock. I stumbled and caught myself just in time before I fell headfirst into the asphalt.

No matter how many times or ways I approached Quentin, he seemed to believe my dalliance was not only a positive thing, it was his request. However, something told me that by indulging in my increasing desire for BA, I was walking a thin line, and danger was on the other side.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Two weeks later I was back in Washington, riding down the highway with Quentin and a big haul of groceries we’d picked up on the way back to his place from the airport. He planned to cook steaks on the grill, bake some potatoes and fix a big salad for dinner. I thought it was kinda sweet since he’d never cooked for me before.

Unable to keep my hands off him, I reached over and rubbed the back of his neck while he drove.

He shot me a sideways grin. “Shouldn’t you ask permission to do that?”

I rolled my eyes. “May I please rub your neck, Sir?” I asked with a slightly mocking tone.

“
You may,” he said with an imperious tone that would have made me want to gag if it hadn’t been so adorable.

Over the past few months things between Quentin and I had changed. We spent enough time together that there were chinks in his “I’m a mean, badass Dom” armor. Our relationship morphed into something more than simply Dom and submissive. I’d fallen and I hoped he felt the same way. During that time there were moments when he was vulnerable.

It was bound to happen. Real life was not the same as online relationships where everyone brings their “best partner” self to the table and when the session is over they log off and go back to their true selves. Eventually, when you spend time together in real life, real-world things come up.

There was the time he had to change a tire in driving rain with traffic whizzing past dangerously close to where he worked, kneeling in the almost pitch black night with incredible calm and competence that made me swoon and want to put my life in his hands. I’ve also seen him felled by a cold. He behaved like a complete baby, and all signs of the tough Dom vanished into thin air when he whined for more chicken soup. I saw the tender look in his eye that showed me how much my nursing meant to him.

Quentin liked the Dom thing. Needed it. He wore it rather like a mask that he hoped would hide and protect his vulnerable side. But the more I got to know him, the more I loved his softer side. I’m not sure if I was drawn to that side of him the most or if it was because I revered the part of him that was most rare to catch a glimpse of.

I loved the tough Dom exterior, but something told me that if he stopped doing all those kinky things to me, that I would still love him
the man
.

I was shaken from my thoughts when he swerved to miss some debris on the road.

“
So what made you decide to cook?” I asked, wanting to make conversation.

“
I have a special dinner planned, and it was the kind of dinner that wouldn’t work in a public setting, like the restaurants we usually frequent.”

“
Sounds intriguing.”

“
It will be.” He reached over and fondled my breast in that way that said, “This is mine and I can play with it anytime I want,” and a shudder of desire rolled through me.

My mouth suddenly dry, I swallowed. “May I touch you, Sir?” I asked, suddenly wanting to feel his hard length under my palm.

“
Very soon, pet.” He stroked the hair on the back of my head. “It won’t be long until we’re home.”

Oh, he was such a devil, knowing that would only amp up my lust. I crossed my legs to try to relieve some of the pressure I was feeling.

“
Don’t you dare make yourself come. You know better than that, don’t you?”

“
Yes, Sir.” I pouted the rest of the drive.

When we got to Quentin’s cabin, he carried my bag for me, and I carried the two sacks of groceries.

After we unpacked everything and he gave me a welcome-back kiss that left me weak in the knees, I asked what I could do to help.

“
Why don’t you make the salad? I’m going to go start the fire on the grill, and I’ll be right back.”

I opened the cabinet where he kept the cutting board and grabbed a knife from the block on the counter. I’d been here enough to know where things were almost as well as I knew my own kitchen. During his so-called bout with the flu (I was convinced it was the common cold), I’d made a big pot of soup for him and several casseroles for his freezer.