8. November 26
The conversation flows between the family, but it always does. I rarely interject, just sit quietly and listen to them prattle on about their perfect lives. That’s what they always want everyone to think. Appearances first. Emotions never.
With food divided up on everyone’s plate, including mine, I glance at the clock again. I’m ten minutes late. Rubbing my lips together with worry, I shift to the edge of my seat and catch Reik’s attention.
“I think I must have caught a stomach bug going around. I need to go upstairs,” I whisper, but it’s clear to me that he doesn’t hear everything I said.
“We have guests, Lizzie.”
“I know, but…I can’t hold it.” I shift again, making my body look as uncomfortable as possible, which isn’t hard because I am. Just not because of the conversation but because of where I shouldn’t be… Which is right where I want to be.
“Fine.” Reik waves me off.
I skitter out of my chair, making apologies along the way, and race up to the spare bedroom. I shut the door and lock it. No one needs to stumble in and see this. Pressing my hand over my heart, I stare at my computer. How mad will BandAid42 be that I’m late?
How will I be punished? Because if it’s anything like the last instructions I was given…I’m going to love every second of it.
Sliding into the chair, I boot the computer up, log into the website, and just wait. Fear takes hold of me, and I can’t force my fingers to type anything into the DM window. But they must know. They knew I’d been there the last time, lurking and watching. So they must know that I’ve logged in.
BandAid42
You’re late.
My heart sinks. Called out for my ineptitude, I type as quickly as possible. It’s worse than I feared, and I need to find a way to handle the situation immediately. Groveling always works with Reik—mostly.
F4tNw1ll1ng
I’m sorry. I couldn’t get away.
BandAid42
You’ll find out your punishment later.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Whatever’s going to happen as a consequence, I’m not going to have to deal with it now. I still have time to try and talk my way out of it or find a way around it.
BandAid42
Tell me.
Right. I’m supposed to be talking about my instructions and everything I’d done.
F4tNw1ll1ng
It felt amazing.
BandAid42
Details. ALL of them.
I gulp. All of them? I’ve never been comfortable talking about sex. Reading about it is one thing, watching pornography in the quiet of a room with no one around and no one knowing is another thing. But this? I’m not sure I can do this. I’m not ready for this.
BandAid42
I don’t repeat commands without punishment to follow.
Right.
F4tNw1ll1ng
I did exactly what you told me. Mother was downstairs with my husband, and I was in the upstairs bathroom. I took a red silk scarf and tied it around my neck, tight so it wouldn’t fall off.
I pause. BandAid42 probably wants more detail.
Not just the list of things I did or how I did them, but the details of how everything made me feel.
Voices reverberate through the vents up to the room, laughter, stories.
I’m missing family time—not that I ever felt as though I was part of the family.
F4tNw1ll1ng
It felt odd at first, having the scarf tied around my neck, and watching myself in the phone. But the more I watched, the more I liked it.
I especially liked the feeling of being strangled.
BandAid42
Good. Good. Tell me how you fucked yourself.
F4tNw1ll1ng
I started by circling my clit, just getting used to myself again.
It hadn’t been a long time since I’d masturbated, but I’d felt so uneasy staring at myself and looking at my vulva and clit when normally I just went for the quick flick to get off and be done.
Biting my lip, I glance toward the door.
Did it mean something that no one had come to check on me?
Shaking that outrageous thought from my head, I focus back on the conversation at hand.
F4tNw1ll1ng
With some lube, I got enough sensation that it started to feel good. Then I put in fingers and tried to imagine they were yours.
BandAid42
How many?
F4tNw1ll1ng
How many what?
BandAid42
Fingers.
So this is what they want. Details, exaggeration, feelings—but it still feels so odd, as if I’m not having a real conversation about something that happened but as if I’m now attempting to write one of those books that I read. It’s so distanced.
BandAid42
How wet were you?
F4tNw1ll1ng
Very.
At least I can honestly answer that one. Even now, if I close my eyes and remember back to yesterday with Mother and Reik in the house while I fucked myself in the bathroom, it makes me wet. I type as much, making sure that BandAid42 understands just how turned on I am right now.
BandAid42
You were a very good little slut today, except for the fact that you were late.
F4tNw1ll1ng
I’m so sorry about that. I really couldn’t get away.
BandAid42
Punishment for disobedience.
My heart hammers. What punishment could I possibly face?
Because seriously, I don’t even know this person, and it’s not like they can come here and punish me.
My screen flashes again, just like it did last time when the instructions vanished.
But this time, the only thing left on it is the direct message box.
BandAid42
Your punishment begins now.
F4tNw1ll1ng
Begins now? What’s that mean?
Do I have to do something?
I wait for a response, but the minutes tick by slower and slower, and BandAid42 is still silent.
I try to click anywhere else on my computer, but it’s not working.
I can’t click out of the direct message box.
It’s the only thing available. What did they do to my computer?
If Reik walks in here, he’s going to see everything.
The only thing I can do is scroll back through the messages—all of them.
I’m going to have to hard reboot my computer.
But I try to message again. Just one more time.
F4tNw1ll1ng
What’s the punishment?
Hello?
Are you still there?
Well, this is just perfect. I throw my hands up in the air and roll my eyes. I fake being sick to get up here as soon as possible, and now BandAid42 won’t even talk to me. And I can’t access the website. Growling, I bend down and unplug the computer, letting it reboot on its own.
“You’d think I’d lied and stolen a car with this reaction.” Snorting, I roll my eyes again and turn the computer on, but it’s right back where it was. “Damnit!”
Working around this virus BandAid42 put on my computer is going to take time, which I don’t exactly have right now. Cursing again, I move to the bed and flop onto my back.
What the hell am I even doing? Talking with strangers about my masturbation session in the bathroom? Reik will murder me if he finds out. I’ll die of embarrassment first, though, that’s for damn sure. And yet…I want nothing more than for BandAid42 to watch me through the webcam as I cum again.
Maybe they hacked that too.
Sliding my fingers into my pants, I look at the computer and imagine.
Are they getting off on this as much as I am?