This story is told with narration, but I am not sure how much of it is needed. Would love any CC. Thanks.
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Kathrine kissed down Jeremy’s neck as she straddled him at the waist, her knees steadying herself on the bed. He was still staring at his phone but she hoped her hands wondering down his sides and to the front of his boxers would encourage him to pay attention to anything else.
“What if they have fleas?”
“What?” Sandra said, pulling her lips away from his face and sitting upright.
“The dogs. What if they have fleas?” Jeremy was still looking at his phone, occasionally holding it with one hand while the other scratching a his arm with the other. “I just feel itchy. What do you think it could be?”
“Uhhh.” Kathrine hesitated. *Do I act like I care in hopes that he’ll get over it, or do I accept defeat and argue about the dogs? Decisions, decisions…*
“Want me to kick the dogs out?” *That’s a healthy compromise, right?*
“Well, do you think they have fleas?” Jeremy reached down and scratched a spot on his leg, slightly knocking Kathrine off balance as he did.
“No, they don’t have fleas, they’re all on that chewable thing and its expensive as hell so I honestly doubt – ” He cut her off by lifting her leg to toss her off himself as he stood up and walked to the bathroom.
“When did you buy it?” His question came from a place of accusation rather than curiosity, and she knew it.
“Buy what, the chews?” She tried her hardest to sound sweet and caring, but confusion and frustration are difficult to hide.
“Yes! Obviously! What we’ve been fucking talking about! When did you buy it? Was it expired? Did you check?” He had stuck his head out of the restroom to snap at her and didn’t wait for her answer as he retreated back to looking at himself in the mirror, scratching at imaginary flea bites.
“They were each dosed by the vet last month. You can call them tomorrow if you have questions.” Her voice was monotone and low as she got off the bed and grabbed her shirt she had so seductively removed not ten minutes ago.
“I’m sorry for yelling.” A faceless voice came from the bathroom. His way of absolving himself without requiring forgiveness. He walked out of the bathroom, still scratching his arm. “But also, it’s really too late for fooling around.”
“It’s nine o’clock.” Kathrine replied, blankly.
“Well, I have early morning meetings. I think I have to get up at like…” He hesitated, trying to remember what he had made up earlier. “…I think by 8:30”
“You have to be in your office…meaning the room down the hall… by 8:30. And nine o’clock is too late for sex?” Kathrine hesitated but was too annoyed to keep her mouth shut. “It’s not like it takes that much energy from you at all, and it certainly doesn’t take ya that long either…”
She knew that comment would keep sex out of reach for another week at least. *Saying that felt better than sex would have anyhow*.
Jeremy stared at her. They had been together for close to fifteen years and had passed the point of actual arguments. Now, disagreements were misplaced sighs, snide comments, silent days, and avoidant eyes.
“I mean, I can help you out, if you want.” He motioned to the vibrator under the nightstand, keeping his face devoid of any emotion, completely indifferent. His offer was meant to shame, and she knew that.
She also knew he wasn’t looking for a response and instead threw her shirt on and walked over to her own bed. They hadn’t slept in the same bed in years, and the reason for it seemed to evolve alongside their poor conflict resolution habits. At first, it was because he felt the bed was too soft. After she offered to get a new one, the reason became her night terrors kept him up. After getting on medication, the reason became laziness – they already had two beds after all, why bother?
“I don’t mind.” He continued. His way of trying to earn points for doing nothing.
“It’s fine. I’ll…” She didn’t want to go to bed angry and annoyed, and she didn’t want to wake up that way either. He was easier to deal with if she conceded and she had grown so used to playing that part. “…check with the vet tomorrow about the fleas.”
“Thanks!” He said, through a smile she had grown to fear. He crawled into his bed, turning his body away from her and pulling up his phone. “What would I do without you?”
*Probably have the same amount of sex as you do with me*. She slid into her own bed with one of the flea-less dogs and wondered if she would be able to sleep without the release she had been needing for days.
*Ping*** Her phone chimed and she ignored it. Continuing to wish her lazy pup a good night sleep.
“Check your phone.” His voice seemed dry, uncaring. So she took her time reaching for her phone and tapping out her lock code. He had sent a link to a hot pink, remote controlled vibrator.
“Remote controlled? Let me get this straight… you want to be able to do even less by literally… just pushing a button?!” She couldn’t control her tone and she knew he wouldn’t even acknowledge her frustration.
She sat up in bed and stared at the advertisement. The vibrator itself was c-shaped and boasted perfect fit for internal and external stimulation. It could be controlled from anywhere in the world, with absolutely zero buttons or dials on the vibrator itself. The controller had several modes as well as a squeeze function that increased with intensity the harder the controller was held. *Who actually buys this shit?*
Kathrine debated responding to Jer’s message with something equally tacky, but instead opened Words with Friends, her mind-numbing way to fall asleep. She had been playing with random people, on and off, for years. But recently, she connected with a player who seemed so familiar to her, they ended up chatting more than actually playing the game. She shared things with him she had never even spoken out loud and rationalized it because he was still technically a stranger on the internet.
Tonight was one of those nights as well. She was angry and couldn’t think of turning various vowels into words. Instead, she opened the chat.
**ChattyKatty**: “You there?”
**WordMaster**: “Of course.”
**ChattyKatty**: “Ugh. Weird night.”
**WordMaster**: “Tell me.”
**ChattyKatty**: “Just…turnt up with no outlet.”
**WordMaster**: “BF not home?”
**ChattyKatty**: “BF not interested.”
**WordMaster**: “Shame…doesn’t mean you have no outlet.”
**ChattyKatty**: “I guess not, but it’s been way too long. I don’t just want to get off. I want to BE with someone.”
**WordMaster**: “Don’t take this the wrong way…but based on what you’ve told me about him…”
**WordMaster**: “Being with him is the same as ‘just getting off’…right?”
**ChattyKatty**: “…ugh. Fair point. He even sent me a link for a remote controlled vibrator. As if he could possibly do any less.”
**WordMaster**: “Remote controlled? That doesn’t sound terrible…depending on who’s in control.”
**WordMaster**: “And how much you’re willing to do as you’re told.”
**ChattyKatty**: *ChattyKatty is typing…*
***ChattyKatty****: ChattyKatty is typing…*
**ChattyKatty**:
**WordMaster**: “Does that make you uncomfortable?”
**ChattyKatty**: “Yes.”
**WordMaster**: “I’d apologize, but I am not really sorry. You’re…frustrated. I can help. If you let me.”
**ChattyKatty**: “Let you?”
**WordMaster**: “The reason you don’t want him to give you a vibrator is because he would use it as an excuse to just click a button.”
**WordMaster**: “I am offering to do more than click a button.”
**ChattyKatty**: “…what exactly are you offering?”
**WordMaster**: “To let you not have to decide things. To tell you what to do, to be in charge. To tell you how to make yourself cum as if you aren’t alone.”
**ChattyKatty***: ChattyKatty is typing…*
**WordMaster**: “And before you tell me I’ve crossed some imaginary line, let me remind you, little Kat, I am not your lay-down-and-take-it, spineless bf who wouldn’t know a good thing if it literally tried to have sex with him every night.”
**ChattyKatty**: “…”
**WordMaster**: “Trust me, little Kat.”
**ChattyKatty**: “Little Kat?”
**WordMaster**: “Do you dislike it?”
**ChattyKatty**: “No.. I do..like it, actually…I’m just not used to it.”
**ChattyKatty**: “I mean, not used to cute nicknames….or being talked to in a manner so…straightforward”
**WordMaster**: “That’s cos you’re with a guy who can’t even be bothered to fuck you correctly. It’s no secret he’s limited on imagination…”
**ChattyKatty**: *ChattyKatty is typing…*
**ChattyKatty**: “Are you just trying to make me uncomfortable?”
**WordMaster**: “If you think that sentence is inaccurate, then by all means, correct me.”
**ChattyKatty**: “It’s…not inaccurate….”
**WordMaster**: “Then don’t pretend with me.”
**WordMaster**: “The best part about being strangers on the internet is exactly that…If you can’t be real with me…
**WordMaster**: “share what you actually think… ”
**WordMaster**: “then all those thoughts just live in your head, alone.”
**ChattyKatty**: “…I suppose… but…”
**WordMaster**: “Kat, I only know the things about you that you want to tell me. And you being pent up and frustrated is a recurring theme.”
**WordMaster**: “Let me help you…tell you what to do. Command you. Make you cum.”
**WordMaster**: “Little cat.”
Kathrine hesitated with her response, typing out one thought, deleting it, and typing out the exact opposite. This went on for a few minutes and she couldn’t bring herself to hit send no matter what the message was.
*”I still don’t get how that would work – “* No, too informative, too practical, too boring.
*”Why does you calling me that make my thighs twitch and my ankles rub against each other?”* No, too eager, too revealing, too desperate.
*”Ok, then help me…Master…command me.”* Fuck no, too honest, too intimate, too…submissive. She stared at what she typed before deleting it and felt herself getting wet. *Command me.*
*”It isn’t fair that you know my name and I don’t know yours…”* No, too off-topic, too prying. *And who cares what his name is if you know you want to call him Master all night long. What the fuck, Kat! What is wrong with you?*
*”Jeremy isn’t that bad…”* No, too much of an obvious lie. *Even the name ‘Jeremy’ sounds like a wet noodle. Master Jeremy? Oxymoronic.*
Her constant typing and deleting seemed to explain everything she couldn’t put into words anyway.
**WordMaster**: “You’re overthinking this, my little cat. Go to sleep for now, we’ll catch up later in the week.”
**WordMaster**: “By the way, since your name is in your username, I’ll give you a hint…mine is too.”
**WordMaster is Offline.**
He didn’t give her time to respond. He didn’t wait for her to explain, didn’t let her ask any follow-up questions. Just said what he wanted to say and then left. Kathrine realized she was breathing heavier as she looked at his username, rearranging letters and trying to see anything other than the word “Master.”
*Drew? Adam? No, Adam would need two A’s…Can I reuse letters? Dom? Why am I focusing on his name when he told me he wants to make me cum?*
Kathrine tried to keep from spiraling but ended up rereading everything her online friend had said to her that night. The way he didn’t back down from saying something inappropriate. How she always felt somewhat off-center, in the best possible way, when talking to him. The way he knew her enough to tease, to give her a pet name, to direct her. To tell her how to cum, what to do.
He had been inappropriate before, but never so directly. They had flirted back and forth, but it was the internet! It didn’t actually count, right? He had to have been joking.
But even if he was… the more she reread his words, the wetter she felt herself getting. She held her phone in her right hand and let her left slide under the covers. Her hand touched her hip and she slowly moved it over to brush the top of her thong. It was already soaked through the thin, lacey, black fabric. *Oh fuck, how is that possible?*
She scrolled to the middle of the conversation. The way he called her his little Kat. She felt herself tense up at the thought of it, *Master’s little kitty*. She slid her hand under her thong and to the bottom of her wet slit, parting her pussy lips with her middle finger. As soon as she did, her fingers were flooded with her own excitement. *I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet before*.
Her usual style of self gratification involved quick circles focused on her clit, never really penetrating herself and never getting herself this wet. It was always more a requirement for sleeping soundly than a thoroughly enjoyable activity. But seeing his messages, feeling her hips flex with anticipation, discovering how wet his words made her… She closed her eyes, and slowly inserted a finger into herself, imagining it belonged to him. She wondered if she had his permission to pretend it was him touching her, feeling inside of her.
*Wait, permission?* Her eyes shot open. She started into the dark of the room and a smile slowly creeped across her face. *Yes, I need Masters permission first.*
Reluctantly, she removed her finger from her needy pussy and tried to calm her nerves. She flexed her legs to try and abate the feeling, wrapping one ankle on top of the other. *I will ask for permission first, Master would prefer it*. She thought to herself, beginning to enjoy this new role she fit into so well.
Jeremy had never taken charge with their sex life, or any aspect of their relationship. Katherine made sure the bills were paid, the fridge was stocked, the house was tidy. She had been managing their household for so long that Jeremy didn’t even try anymore. The idea that someone else was going to tell her what to do, to require her to trust him and expect her participation, was nothing short of exhilarating.
—-
—-
The next few days went on the same as every day had been for the past 15 years. Katherine went to work; Jeremy pretended that being in a room he called an office qualified as having a job. And each night they ignored each other, finding comfort in the soft light of their phones.
Katherine, however, purposely hadn’t opened Words with Friends for a whole week out of sheer anxiety. She was nervous at what she would read if he had messaged her, and more nervous of what she would feel if he hadn’t messaged her at all!
When she finally managed to open the app, she did so after leaving the office for the day. She sat in her car, breathed deep, and waited for the game to load. And there it was…a single message from an internet stranger.
**WordMaster**: “Try to get the mail, if you can.”
The mail? Katherine immediately panicked. She never picked up the mail. It was always brought to her door by the tenant who lived in the apartment above their garage. His way of storing good graces for when rent was a little late.
She had never driven home so quickly, nearly missing her own driveway. *Oh please be on the mat, please be on the mat.* But the doormat was empty and Jeremy’s car was sitting in the garage.
She breathed in slowly. *Don’t panic. Jeremy never opens the mail. And Master isn’t that stupid…. Master. What do you have in store for me?* Just thinking of his title got her too excited to be rational. She left her bag with her laptop in the car and walked as quickly as she could into the house. There, sitting on the kitchen table in plain view, was the mail. One package already opened, and Jeremy holding it.
“Hey, glad you took me up on the offer!” He seemed excited. Katherine hadn’t decided how to play it yet, but the fact that he was upbeat made her relax a tad. “But I think you might have to order a new one.”
“Why, what do you mean?” She asked as innocently as she could.
“The vibrator you got…I think it’s missing pieces. Or is this one of the ones you hook up to your phone?”
“Oh yeah, I think I had gotten an email about a recall or something…” Katherine walked over and held out her hand. Jeremy tossed her the open box and continued to flip through letters, sorting them into random piles for which only he understood the pattern.
Katherine caught the box and placed it under her arm, trying not to draw any attention to herself. She slipped into the guest bath and slowly closed the door behind her, locking it without making a sound. Her loud exhale filled the room and her eyes met her own in the reflection of the mirror.
*Calm down girl. Breathe.*
She opened the box and pulled out the contents. Jeremy was right, the box was missing the controller.
Inside the instruction booklet, tucked in between the last two pages, a small, folded piece of paper stuck out. Katherine tugged at it gently and unfolded it. The paper looked like it was torn from a note book and had one line of handwritten script on it:
“Send me a message when you are ready to play, kitten.”
*Oh, fuck.*
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/pjwy98/the_remote_control_part_1_mf_fluff_masturbation