Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Sure, maybe it’ll be fine, but what if it won’t?
If I were to inflict that kind of pain on Sarah, I wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt. Peter’s ghost would haunt me for the rest of my life.
Still, I can’t let her do this, can I? It’s dangerous. She could meet an axe murderer. Or more likely, she could meet a sadistic master who goes too far—that’s almost just as bad.
I can’t just sit by and watch while the pale paws of sedentary Internet weirdos dirty her up, can I?
I can stop Sarah. Peter would’ve wanted me to do that.
A cynical voice inside me accuses, you’re just jealous because you can’t have her all to yourself.
Well, maybe so. But this counts as taking care of Sarah, right? That was what Peter wanted. He wrote it down and everything.
Yes.
I’ll do this.
I sit upright and grab the mouse, then click the “Private Message” button.
Oh, little Sarah Ellis. Looks like you’re all grown up. If only we could play some adult games together, doll.
Sarah
I sift through my messages.
I just posted two hours ago, and I’m already getting tons of messages. But that’s not necessarily a good thing. This is the main problem with online platforms like this.
Somehow, the women always end up getting tons of abhorrently stupid messages from men who seemingly haven’t evolved much past the grunting-caveman phase. Their heys and you’re prettys are the modern equivalent of Stone Age grunts. As people often say about online dating: the odds are good, but the goods are odd.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so picky; I’ll only see the guy once, after all. But if I’m going to do this after such a long absence, I’m going to do it right.
I almost give up, but there’s just a handful of messages to go through before I can go back to the unbeatably exciting activity of researching security companies.
Next one is by someone who calls himself PuppetMaster. Interesting username.
I tap the screen to view the entire message.
I’ve been looking for someone—or rather, something—like you. An object for me to use and abuse.
Good start, but that’s basically what I said in my profile. He just had to copy some of the text and paste it into his message. It’s not super original.
And you’ve been looking for someone like me. You just don’t know it yet.
Hmm . . . A little cocky, are we? Depending on the guy, that can be a good thing or a bad thing. If he can’t pull it off, it falls flat, and that’s just embarrassing for everyone.
Let me guess. Nice guys have been hitting you up, asking you how your day’s been, telling you to meet up with them for a good time.
Yup. That’s just par for the course for any site like this, though.
But that’s not what you want, is it?
Nope.
Let me tell you exactly what you want.
Okay, try me.
You want someone who doesn’t care if you’ll have a good time.
I can’t deny that sounds hot.
You want someone who’s only interested in his own pleasure; that’s what really gets you going.
Yes. To me, lust is meant to be self-serving. Imagine a lover who derives no pleasure from having sex with you—not sexy, right? I want a man whose desire for me is all-consuming, to the point where he’ll hurt me to get what he wants.
But that’s not all it takes. He also needs to know my limits.
You want someone who takes his liberties with you, and all you need in return is the reassurance that you’ll be unharmed by the end of it.
Whoa. It’s like this guy read my mind.
With the exception of a few marks and bruises.
I smile. Yes. I love it when men brand me with their desire, when their craving drives them to manic possession, when they put a warning on my flesh to tell others to stay away.
Of course that’s the fantasy part of it. I’m not really going to belong to any of these guys. As dangerous as this sounds, it’s only role play, no different from when nerds dress up as superheroes.
You know you want to hit that “Reply” button, doll.
With a first message like that? I definitely do. The way he calls me “doll” makes me instantly imagine an authoritative voice talking to me—deep, baritone, and cocksure.
Wow. And I thought pickings were slim in this town. But this guy is smooth as peanut butter.
Still, it could be a canned response. Maybe he sends that same message to all the girls on the site. It is a kinky site. It’s not hard to guess what submissive women want.
But other than that, he sounds like the perfect dominant man.
I check his full profile.
There’s no picture—disappointing.
But he’s thirty-one, which is great. And he lives in the same state as me, which hopefully means he won’t mind traveling here to see me. I’m too broke to go anywhere right now.