“Open it now. Put me on speaker.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I put him on speaker and set my phone on the counter. Then I pull the wide purple ribbon. It slips away. I lift the lid.
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“Take off all your clothes then put it on. Send me a picture when you’re properly dressed.”
Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.
I’m slow and clumsy getting undressed, but he’s surprisingly patient. He never asks me if I’m done yet. He just waits.
When I’m naked and, yes, hard, I take the black leather collar from the box and strap it around my neck. I can hear him breathing through the phone.
I don’t know what I look like until I open the camera app. I find my eyes huge and dark in my flushed face. I find my pulse beating visibly above the black line of the collar. I snap a picture and send it to him.
He says through the voice modulator, “Good boy. Now lube up that dildo and start riding it.”
“Fuck,” I mutter as I lift the hyper-realistic silicone cock from the box. It has a suction cup base. “It’s too big.”
“You can handle it, Elias. It’s the same size as me. That’s why I chose it for you.”
“Jesus. I don’t know where to—”
“Just drop right where you are.”
I grab the lube from the box. I kneel on the floor between the kitchen and living room. I secure the dildo to the parquet floor and lube it. God, it looks filthy jutting up in the middle of this fancy apartment. The lights are on. I don’t know if I can—
“Start with your fingers,” my tormentor tells me. “You haven’t kept yourself open. I could tell, following you today.”
“Jesus.”
“Stop fucking around. Get your fingers inside your ass.”
A breath stutters into my lungs. Then I do what he says.
There’s no one here, no one to see me, but I still feel very exposed as I finger myself in the open space of my apartment.
“Scissor your fingers,” he orders, then, “Stroke deeper.”
He talks me through it until I’m ready, then I lift myself over the dildo and sink down.
“Ohhh,” I moan as it penetrates me. “God—fuck.”
“Mmm,” he murmurs. “Good. Start lifting.”
I do what he says. The sense of exposure is intense. I don’t like it. I don’t like that I’m alone.
That’s what I try to tell him, but the words that come out are, “I want you. I need—”
“I’m right here, baby. Keep fucking yourself. Don’t stop. Put your hand on your cock.”
“Please—”
“Hand on your cock—now. Don’t stop, Elias.”
I do what he says, but it doesn’t help. “I need—”
“Fuck yourself until you come.”
