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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Erotica · #1756092
Some dreams do come true.
Daphne checked her watch, and swore, speeding up her steps. She shouldn't have stopped for groceries, but she had, and now she was late. And being late was not something she cared to contemplate. Reaching her apartment door, she juggled the brown paper sack in her arms into one elbow, her other hand impatiently jiggling the key into the lock. It probably didn't take any longer than usual, but it sure felt like it. Daphne slammed the door behind her, dumped the grocery sack onto the sofa, and rushed for her computer. Again, it seemed to take forever for the machine to boot up, and she bent over the armrest of her captain's chair, waiting for the first possible moment to click on the right icon on her desktop. There! The program opened, and she tapped quickly at the keyboard... and let out a breath in relief. He wasn't online yet. So, she was late, and he'd know it- her profile would tell him precisely when she logged on- but she hadn't left him waiting for her. Her punishment would be relatively light.

Still, she had to move fast. Leaving the groceries where they were, Daphne flew into the bedroom to remove her clothes. Those were dropped into the hamper, and she slapped the lid shut before opening the dresser drawer where she kept all of his favorite toys nestled on purple velvet. A quick check reassured her that everything in the room was perfectly maintained, from the bed she'd made before leaving for work, to the bows tied in the curtain sashes. The webcams he'd had her install in the bedroom would reveal that everything there met with his strict guidelines.

Daphne took a moment to look herself over in the full-length mirror he'd sent her for Christmas. She was no beauty, and she knew it. Short, more than a little chubby, with plain features, small breasts, and straight, limp brown hair that refused to be twisted into any sort of attractive 'do- she was growing it long because, of course, he liked long hair. God, but she wished she was even a little bit pretty. And even after years of playing with him, she still marveled that he would want to see her, to look at her, especially when she was naked. He had spent a long time coaxing her into turning on the webcam that first time; she was sure he'd be repulsed by the sight of her. But he wasn't. He'd only smiled, widely, and given her a night of wondrous glory she would never forget, a proper reward for putting her trust in him. And that was how she'd come to him every night since. Daphne suspected that if she could go into public naked without getting arrested, he would have made her get rid of all her clothes long ago!

He still wasn't online when she returned to the computer, and she took her time laying out the toys on her desk. Finally she was able to relax into her chair, bracing herself against the chill of the seat meeting her bare flesh. As always, it sent a thrill through her. Not that she enjoyed cold- she hated it, in fact- but because, once again, she was doing what pleased him. Her discomfort was unimportant. It was ironic, really. Before he came into her life, even before her divorce, the only thing that had been important to her was her comfort, her desires, her needs and likes and wants. She imagined that her ex-husband's theme song had been that Toby Keith tune, 'I Wanna Talk About Me'. Of course, such thoughts had never occurred to her during the marriage. Back then, her husband had been selfish and self-centered, and his word was the law. She'd been miserable and frustrated- not at all helped by the fact that he was boring in bed- and he really shouldn't have been surprised when she took comfort in the friendships she found online. That had angered him too, that she might pay attention to anyone other than him, even when he wasn't at home. With those friendships, though, she found the support she needed to put herself forward, to take what she wanted, and finally the courage to leave him. Never again, she had told herself- never again would she sublimate herself to another. But then she met Victor...

She couldn't remember how she realized that they had similar... interests. An off-hand comment here, a bawdy joke there, perhaps. She remembered how they met- on an online RPG based on one of her favorite author's stories. He played a military doctor, and her soldier character was constantly getting hurt, so they roleplayed together quite a bit, and then the chatting began. He was the one that introduced her to Eden- another RPG, but one much darker, even seedier. The premise of the game was simple- a fantastical world that could be accessed only by a magical portal that changed whoever passed through it into forms rooted in their dreams and desires. It was a world of near-anarchy where the strongest ruled and the weaker served whether they liked it or not. The theme files were incredibly rich and complex, covering everything from landmarks in this make-believe world to explanations of its currency. Victor helped her create her first character, a young and beautiful woman, slave to his warlord. The first time they roleplayed that relationship, it had an incredible effect on her physically. She had to touch herself, to give herself glorious relief, better than she'd ever had before. She was hooked- a little taste was all it took. Still, it was a while before their relationship moved out of character...

"Daphne."

Her eyes flew open to find him smiling at her from the computer screen, and she realized she was touching herself again. Hastily she withdrew her hand, blushing, and she saw his smile grow into a grin. "Victor. Sorry. I was, uh, distracted for a minute there."

"Hmm, yes, I saw that." He jerked his chin to one side, indicating the couch. "Go put your groceries away. Make it fast."

Daphne jumped up, hurrying to obey; she was back in her chair in less than five minutes, licking water from her fingers. The ice cream container had started to sweat in the heat of the apartment. Not that it was very warm- he liked the effect on her nipples from a slight chill- but it was certainly warm enough to melt chocolate chocolate chip ice cream.

"You were late," Victor noted, his brow furrowing slightly. She stiffened in delighted dread, but he surprised her by saying, "Well, we'll attend to that later." Again, that smile encompassed her, shutting out everything around her, and she relaxed. He continued, watching her. "Daphne, I have a question for you."

That was odd. He was usually more forthright than that. Normally he'd just come out and ask. Daphne was intrigued. "A question? What is it?"

"It's an interrogative statement, but that's not important right now." Their mutual interests ran far beyond the sexual, to movies, music, and humor, and that reference to one of their favorite films made them share a grin. Victor finally sobered, a wistful note entering his expression. "Did you mean what you said last night, that you wished you could be with me in real life?"

Daphne coughed, looking away a little. "Well, sure, but I wasn't trying to pressure you or anything, Vic, you know that. I was just thinking out loud. In the middle of an orgasm, no less. Don't worry about it."

"I'm not worrying about it," he told her firmly. "I want it too." Victor paused for a long moment and looked down, and she could hear him typing, then he looked up again, and sat back, lacing his fingers behind his head, his smile back in place. "Answer the door."

"What?" Only then did the doorbell ring. "Ack!" Daphne jumped up and grabbed for the robe she kept handy for such situations, throwing it on as she strode for the door. "Who is it?" she called out instinctively.

The answer came, muffled, through the door. "Flower delivery!"

Daphne peered through the peephole, then she unlocked the door and threw it open. The young man on the other side, holding a huge bouquet of white flowers, smiled tentatively. "Uh, Daphne? That's the only name they gave."

"That's me, yes." Daphne reached for the flowers with a trill of delight. The delivery man just gave her an amused look as she opened the attached card. One word was printed on it- MINE. With a thrilled squeal, Daphne buried her face in the flowers, delighting in their scent. She shut the door and turned to make her way back to her computer. She could see Victor watching her very intently. "Oh, Vic, they're lovely! Thank-" A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she pressed her hand to her head. "Thank you..." Her vision was starting to gray. "Vic... I don't feel so-" The last thing she saw was her lover's smile growing broader, then the world turned black.

*    *    *

Daphne woke abruptly. Maybe it was the cold. She hated cold. Lying on a cement floor definitely fit that description, and she sat up abruptly. She let out a little shriek, wide-eyed at her surroundings. She was in a small barred cell, lit dimly by a caged lightbulb in the low ceiling above her. It was empty, save for her. Daphne scrambled to her feet, rushing to the bars to peer out, nearly screaming, "Help! Anybody? Is anybody out there?" She was on the verge of tears, but almost immediately she heard footsteps, and then Victor appeared on the other side of the bars, the first time she'd ever seen him in person.

"Oh thank God!" Daphne nearly sobbed with relief. "Vic! Get me out of here!"

That inspired a hearty chuckle from her lover. "I think not." His voice held the same firm tone of command she heard every night when he controlled her. He gestured to her, or rather, to her body. "Look at yourself, Daphne. Notice anything different?"

Confused, Daphne did look down, and did a doubletake. Her breasts had never been that large before! They weren't pendulous now, but definitely ample. And she was more curvy than she had ever been in her life, with a flat tummy and slim, long legs. She became aware that her hair fell down over her shoulders in rich auburn curls now. She looked up at him, bewildered.

Victor observed, looking her over, "You're pretty now. Just a little, just right. And mine, all mine."

"Vic, I don't understand," she wailed.

He looked at her. "Be quiet, girl." The force in his voice stunned her into silence. He said, "You're a smart girl, Daphne. You didn't really think that a place like Eden, with all its complexity, could have been just made up in some programmer's mind, did you?"

Her mind reeled. Eden was real... and Victor was really a powerful warlord... and she was really his slave now. Daphne looked up at him, and he smiled and said the most wonderful word she'd ever heard in her life, and she fell to her knees.

"Mine."
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