What Became of Me

Petra picked up her phone and smiled broadly at what she saw.

“The other toy seems to be doing well. It looks like she’s rubbing herself to an orgasm. Not for the first time this weekend. That thing loves her orgasms. You two would be an interesting contrast. But you both are horny, pathetic cunts, even if in different ways.”

“If I spent the whole weekend naked in chains in a cell, I would probably masturbate most of the time too”, I thought. “Hell, if I only could I would be rubbing myself right now.”

I would have liked to get a glimpse too, but to my dismay Petra put her cell phone away.

“I told you I would show you one of my favourite porn movies if you didn’t get too excited. I don’t want you to have an ... unfortunate accident. After all, you still have a few years of self-imposed orgasm denial ahead of you.”

I loved my edging sessions. I loved the almost unbearable horniness, the frustration that cost me sleepless nights. But if today was a representative example of what weekends would be like in the future, I was going to have an “unfortunate accident” sooner rather than later. The three edges that Petra had brought me to in a matter of seconds had been already close. Not dangerously close, but close.

Petra tilted her head and sized me up.

“But you’ve done pretty well so far. Well, at least for an untrained stupid thing. So, I don’t want to withhold the porn I’ve chosen from you. Agreed?”

I wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question or if my opinion was really wanted. Maybe this was another trap, like the one before with the drink? By now I was pretty much at the end of my strength. My jaw was sore. The list of muscles that hurt was long. My clit was painfully swollen. But how could I refuse to watch the film Petra chose? I nodded timidly.

“Very nice!”

Petra clapped her hands once in excitement, took something out of her purse and plugged it into my computer. I’m no tech genius, but I recognized it as an external hard drive.

Petra pushed the chair and me with it aside and started doing things on my computer that I didn’t quite understand. Something with my browser settings, I think.

“Before we get to my movie, it’s time to pay for the privilege of watching porn with me," Petra began to explain as she quickly opened and closed windows.

“I’m sure you want to know what the fun is costing you. Money? You know I have enough of that. Pain? A tempting thought, but enduring suffering for me is a given, not a currency with which you can buy something in return. No, you will pay with something that is even more valuable and rare: the unvarnished truth. With brutal openness and self-exposure.”

That sounded threatening. Petra’s tone was very serious.

“The thing is,” Petra continued. “Everybody lies. I don’t see that so much as a moral transgression. On the contrary, it is often sensible to lie in order to achieve one’s goals. But people are honest when they do things while believing they are unobserved.”

That was all well and good. But I still didn’t know what Petra was getting at.

“Do you understand what I’m doing here?”

I shook my head, spreading the spit that ran from my gagged mouth over my breasts.

“Well, I’ll explain it to you. I’m trying to do it in a way that even a stupid thing like you can understand. I’m doing a few things. And I have to say, you made them pretty easy for me.”

As I said, I wasn’t a tech genius and hadn’t taken adequate security precautions. But who expects someone to spy on their computer while you’re sitting bound and gagged right next to it?

“First, I copied parts of your browser history. Which pages you viewed on the two video platforms you accessed. And the views from a few other porn sites that I recognize. I also saved your search queries and the log of how much time you spent on each page. This way I can see which things you stayed busy with and what you quickly clicked away. Luckily, you also seem to have kept copies of your notes, your drafts and unpublished stories. It will be a lot of fun to read those.”

I should have put an end to the whole thing at that moment at the latest. This really went too far. With this information, Petra had more than enough material to blackmail me and force my obedience in the future.

But people don’t always act rationally. Especially not when they are extremely horny. I longed to submit. But I realized that I wasn’t submitting here. I was subjugated, brutally, ruthlessly, systematically, with cool calculation. My self-preservation instincts were not particularly strong, unlike my self-destructive tendencies. I saw exactly what I was getting myself into. Petra now had the means to subjugate me unconditionally. A subconscious dream seemed to come true and brushed aside all concerns.

“Secondly, I’m currently copying your entire porn collection. You’re a diligent collector, so this will take a while. And thirdly, I’ve opened a back door that gives you me access to your computer. This allows me to determine what you have access to and what you don’t, among other things. For example, turning on your built-in cam.”

The second point didn’t change anything fundamental; it just gave Petra more material. Access to my computers was an element of control but did not seem critical to me. What was critical was that I was now open to blackmail. I started to suspect that Petra was a psychopath. One of those “successful” psychopaths who are overrepresented in leadership positions because of their ruthless nature, their flaunted self-confidence and their charisma. If that was true, I was being open to blackmail by a psychopath with extremely sadistic tendencies. What could possibly go wrong?