I glance at the time on the top right of my screen. One-seventeen AM.
It’s not uncommon for my trusted stranger to be online at this time. I tap out a message and hold my breath.
CagedBird
Are you awake?
My heart hammers against my ribcage, and I flex my fingers in an attempt to dispel the residual shaking from my nightmare. A pang lances my stomach, and I almost double over at the sudden surge of nausea. I hug my arms to my chest and struggle to drag in painful breaths while I anxiously await his reply.
The check mark turns green, and three dots appear. He has an alert set up on his phone for our late-night conversations, just like I do.
GentAnon
For you? Always. What filthy things are on your mind, little dove?
My breath hitches on a soft sob at the visceral relief of his online presence.
We’ve been exchanging fantasies for two months now. My steamy pen pal found kinship in my dark erotica that I posted on the Eroticlit online forum, and he DMed me one day to tell me how much he admires my writing. What started as compliments slowly turned to questions about my disturbing, secret urges, and then the dirty messages started.
My fingers finally steady as calm settles over me. I’m safe with my anonymous admirer. In this secret space, I can purge my inner darkness in a way I’ve never known before. I’ve always had my painting as an outlet, but I’ve never been able to share my shameful fantasies with another person.
In the wake of the attack, I’m craving safety, even though our clandestine connection is fucked up. There’s a perverse security in expressing my secret self with this stranger who shares my deepest fantasies.
Three dots appear. I’ve allowed too many seconds to pass before replying. His admonishment lights up my screen.
GentAnon
Don’t keep me waiting. You know the consequences of denying me.
My pulse quickens, and my core heats. I sink into our game, hiding from the horrors of my real life by losing myself in the thrill of our anonymous correspondence.
CagedBird
Fuck your consequences.
GentAnon
Such a dirty mouth for a sweet girl. I’ll tame that tongue of yours with my cock down your pretty throat.
A familiar thrill dances up my spine—sharp sparks that prickle their way over my scalp, as though he’s pulling my hair while he forces his cock into my unwilling mouth.
GentAnon
I like a little fight in you. Clipping your wings is such a pleasure, my little dove.
My core turns molten, and I squirm beneath my duvet as my clit begins to pulse in response to his crass threats. They should terrify me, but the thrill that fizzes through my veins is subversively alluring. I’m addicted to this fear, drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
And I want him to burn me up until I don’t have any thoughts left except for the desire to submit to his perverted will.
CagedBird
Tell me what you want to do to me.
GentAnon
Making demands? That’s not how this works. Beg.
Arousal wets my labia, and my inner muscles clench.
