Remote Control

(Another Writing Prompt)

I have the Lovesense Nora. She is my best friend in the whole world right now, and I really hate giving up control of her. I was introduced to her by a young man with a delicious accent. I appreciate what he tried to do for me with it, but it did not work well. I never could connect in the right way with the two of them together. Some threesomes are just not meant to be.

One or two others talked about helping me give up that control. I was always reluctant. I think that is why online dynamics have been so much easier for me. It is easier to be reluctant, easier to say no, and easier to use your own creativity to complete the tasks you are given. The pressure you put on yourself lessens somehow. And sometimes you can find someone to just have fun with, just play around with fantasies you do not necessarily want to share with others in the light of day.

But then you meet someone different thinking they are the same. Starting out, it is like the others, a bit of fun. Talking for a while, playing for a while. Then they start asking for things. Asking for that control. You are reluctant again to give it. What would it mean if you did? Do they really want all of me? Are they ready for all the messiness (and I am not just talking about that wetness they create)?

“Let me start with just a little bit of control.”

“I don’t know, Daddy. I don’t think it will work. I do just fine on my own.”

“Try, Baby. For me. Please. You can start with the first one. Warm yourself up for Daddy.”

“Yes, Daddy.” My hands slide down to see that the warmth and the wetness are already there. His voice and soothing nature have already put me in a good headspace for this. He knows it, too. I hear his chuckle after my fingers dip in, and he hears that wetness for himself.

“Oh, Baby. You just can’t help it, can you? Getting all wet for Daddy. It is like that pussy of yours was actually made for me. Made to respond to me. My voice and my touch.”

“Oh, Yes, Daddy! I think you are right.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“Good Girl. I think, wait, I know I should have a turn. Turn on Nora for me, please.”

“I thought . . . Yes, Daddy.”

“I have already created something for us. Click the link, Baby.”

I do as he says, fumbling through the app and trying to start the rhythm he has created. It is a frustrating one. This is why I hate giving away control. I do so much better without that damn sadist edge. Just give me what I want, that constant pressure and vibration. Let it build up into something big. Let me come over and over. Just because I cum quick the first time doesn’t mean I can’t come more.

But no. That is not what he is giving me. The on-and-off pressure and vibrations are giving me that bratty pouty feeling. The frustration is building, and he can hear it in my moans and cries. He is laughing at me. That laugh that sends all sorts of feelings to the pit of my stomach, fear and anticipation and excitement. I need other feelings going to my center.

Fucking Sadist. (His laugh makes me worry I said that out loud.)

“Poor Baby. Do you think you deserve an orgasm?”

Maybe not. Not with all the things running through my mind. All the overthinking swirling around. The desperation for something real I just can’t seem to get or hold on to. Do I say, Yes, Daddy and ignore the brat within, or do I give it to him? Do I make him see all of me? Demand everything I want. Tell him to make me cum now.

A noise outside disrupts my rambling brain. I hear something in my backyard, but it is likely an animal beyond the fence. That is what it usually is. It brings me back to the moment, though.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Is that it? Just ‘Yes Daddy’? You have nothing else you want to say? It took you a while to get that out. Is something distracting you? Maybe I need to change to something else?”

Just as he said that I heard another noise, this time closer, and suddenly, he was there, coming in through my back door. (That is not a euphemism; people stay with the story.)

“Maybe it’s time I take complete control.”