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Barbra becomes Wendy
by Brillig
A work of fiction. Get a grip folks, none of this happened. But boy, do I wish it did. Warning, contains sexually explicit material, etc. Starts out very slow. Not for everyone. If you want real hardcore, look elsewhere. This is more psychological.
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I'm into my late 50's now. All of this happened several decades ago when I was in my late 40's. Call it my last fling.
I met Barbra in a neo-biker bar. I mean, it was a kind of edgy place in a better part of town. Someone introduced us, I forget who. I was playing pinball at the time and slamming down miller high life's.
It's funny, sometimes you see someone and you just know they are perfect for you. That was Barbra. 5'6", slim waisted and broad hipped. Dark brown, unrully hair. She was wearing a biege business type suit at the time. I thought at the time, and later found to be true, that she was a little more chesty than I usually prefer. Not hollywood, false boob chesty, but larger than I typically like.
We hit it off right away. Of course there were complications. She was living with someone at the time. They had, according to her, an open relationship. I never really inquired further. She soon became my afternoon delight. She'd pick me up after work, we'd head to my place for some hot and heavy sex, then she'd head on home. Once or twice we went out. Dinner or a movie or somesuch. But I'm such a social dork that those occassions never really worked out so well. But the sex was good. Very good.
In our messing arround, we did try some light bondage. Well, once. I had a terry cloth bath robe that I took the belt from and tied her hands with. She looked very sexy with her hands between her back while wearing another biege suit. Yeah, she liked biege a lot. But then she spoke.
"Oh no sir. Whatever are you going to do with me?" in a very contrived little girl voice. I wilted immediately. Maybe I should have taken a belt to her or something, but I was pretty new to this all. We muddled through somehow.
I should say right now, that all this occured back in the early 90's. The internet was just opening up to non-academics and beginning to take off. Graphic web browsers had just begun to arrive. Internet porn was just starting to make its presence felt. After a lot of searching and reading, I was soon bored with what was available. Maybe that's because I'm kinda old, and the mention of tits, twat or ass doesn't stir my juices the way it does a teenager. Maybe I'm just weird.
So, this is how it started. We were both having a smoke after our usual activites. She asked me, I swear she started it, what my fantasies were.
"Well, there is one I'm obsessing with these days." I answered.
"?"
"Tell you what, it's easier to act out than to explain. If you're up for it that is."
"I'd need to hear more about it before I agreed to that." she said.
"It involves heavy role-playing. If you can handle that. You'd have to be a real actress to pull it off." She just looked at me so I went on, "It involves just talk. At least as far as I've worked things out so far. It couldn't hurt to give it a try."
"Does it involve me getting tied up or anything like that?"
I wasn't sure what answer she was hoping for but I told her the truth, "Nope. Just talk." Then I added, "Oh, and I want to record our conversation."
"Record it? Why?"
"To set the scene. To make it more real." I explained. "Tell you what," I went on, "you don't even have to use your real name. You can be...I don't know.." and looking around the room, I got inspiration from my trash can, "Wendy."
"And just talk?"
"Yup. Well, kindof. There's still the role-playing." I plunged ahead, "I want you to be someone else. Someone who has seen a particular web site and decided she wants to be a part of it."
At her perplexed look, I went on to explain....
"Look, imagine this. There's this fellow running a BDSM web site. He has a couple of sex slaves, nice looking ladies. But he's run the course with them without getting into some realy six stuff. So he's asked for volunteers to take their place. He's conducting interviews for his next slave. Just an interview, nothing more. And he's looking for something quite specific. Never mind what, you have to make yourself a persona. Decide who Wendy is, why she's applied for an interview, and then do the interview. Can you handle it?"
She thought about it, the allowed that she could. It looked to me as if she was already making up the details of Wendy's life. "Cool." I thought. "Ok, get dressed. But no panty hose. Just a foible of mine, ok?" And so she did. She'd come by, as always, just afer work. So she was wearing a suit again, this time navy blue. She did forego the panty hose, which I appreiciated.
T-shirt, blue jeans and slip on deck shoes for me. Yeah, no underwear. So I'm a slob, so what? I had her go upstairs with me.
Now, back then, I lived in a second and third floor apartment. Really half a house. The second floor, the first floor of the apartment, consisted of a pair of bedrooms and a rather large bath room with both a tub and a shower. Upstairs was what used to be the attic. It was now a loft consisting of a kitchen, small den area where I had set up my computer and related electronics gear. The rest of the room was open space. Carpeted, drywalled, it was sort of a large dining/living area. And there were these lovely beams across the ceiling. Very tudor looking.
The furniture was sparse, but I did have an old recliner and a sofa or direputable history. I had her sit on the sofa. I sat in the recliner. Next to me was a cheap casset recorder from Radio Shack. I turned it on.
"Ok Wendy, tell me all about you."
"First let me say, we only have about an hour or so, then I have to go." I said it was no problem, plenty of time.
Barbra thought a bit. "I graduated from Purdue." She didnt'. She went to a very strict catholic school in...well, leave that.
"My degree is in economics." Well, sociology I thought. But she's staying close to her own story so far.
"I work for county administration in accounting." Yeah, she works for the county over seeing welfare claims. But still close.
"I'm single," true, "live alone and am uninvolved right now." false but I never did get her current relationship straight in my mind.
"I'm bored. Bored with the dating scene. Bored with work. Bored with my life." If true, this was news to me. Interesting. Very.
"So, is that why are you looking to be my online slave?" I asked. I was never good at keeping my mouth shut.
"Noooo. At least not only. Well, the money's good. And I could use it right about now." Yeah, I skipped over that. I had told her that the web site had public, free, videos for download, and better, more interesting, videos for paid download. The "slave" got half the proceeds from the downloads. Sorry about that, my bad.
"But the main reason," she went on, "is that I'd really like to try giving control over to someone else. Work requires me to be ever on top of things. To be making decisions, taking charge. Just once I'd like to relax and let someone else make all the decisions."
"Even if those decisions resulted in your humiliation, embarassment or pain?"
"Yes. Well, no. No, I wouldn't like to be hurt or embarassed. But." she thought a moment. "But, it all has to be on the table for any of it to be a real threat. I mean, if I knew I would never feel pain, then the threat of punishment wouldn't be real. But only a small part of it has to actually happen for it all to be real. You know what I mean?"
"So, if I bent you over that sofa and took a belt to your behind, that would be ok? More, if I filmed that and it went out on the web for thousands of teenagers to beat their meat while watching, that would be ok?" I don't know why, but right now I had one hell of a hard on.
"Maybe not." she said.
"Is that Wendy talking or Barbara?"
"Yeah, you're right. Barbara talking. Wendy might be ok with it. *Might* mind you." she said.
"Well, you know Jen," I just threw the name out, I've no idea where it came from, "You know Jen had a different agreement than what we're looking for now." Also, I had no idea who the 'we' were. It just sounded, I don't know, right.
"Everyone saw Jen, everyone knows who Jen is." I went on, "In your case, you could wear a demi mask. Something that covered half your face. Only your eyes, nose and mouth would be bare." Neat idea, I came up with that on the spur of the moment. "No one need know who you really are."
"OK" was all she said.
"There are still a lot of things we need to know." again, that we.
"Do you have any children?"
"No."
"Have you ever been preganant?" Well, abortion etc., you know?
"No."
"Are you a virgin?"
She laughed, "You know I'm not."
"I know Barbra isn't, I've no idea if Wendy is." I replied.
A light seemed to dawn for here, "No."
"Have you ever had anal sex?"
"Once, no, twice."
"What are your thoughts on that?"
"It made me feel full." is all she said.
"Not good enough," I said, "did it hurt? Did you like it?"
"All sex has some pain in it." she said. "Some times more, some times less. Yeah, it hurt. Did I like it? No. Could I come to like it, I don't know."
"Even given what it means to a western man?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"In some parts of the world anal sex is a method of birth control. The man has to have sex, but the couple can't afford another child. So anal sex. In the western world, with birth control pills and condoms, anal sex is a power trip. It's the man saying I own you. You are mine. I can do anything I want to you."
"So, if you had anal sex with me, that's what it would mean?" This was Barbara talking, we hadn't had anal sex yet. We'd talked, well, I had asked. She said yeah but you have to be gentle. I didn't do it. But yeah, the discussion was right on the mark.
"Yeah, I think that's exactly what it'd mean." Now there's guts.
"I see." and that's all she would say.
"You're not a virgin and you've been fucked in the ass....what else? Have you ever made it with a woman?"
"No!" Oh, that was loud and clear.
"What's the closest you've ever come? To making it with another woman that is?"
"I got very drunk one night, in a bar. This girl came on very strong. She even tried to rub my tits." Wendy or Barbra I thought.
"No closer? Did you talk to your friends about girl on girl sex?"
"No. Well, a little. But only to laugh about it. Nothing real."
"Did you talk to your friends about anal sex?"
"Yeah. Everyone agreed. It hurt like hell."
"Do you like being tied up?" might as well cut to the chase I thought.
"Yeah. Maybe. Depends on when, with who and how." she said.
"With me, on the show, and in the most painful manner I can come up with." I said. In for a penny in for a pound.
"Uh, maybe. This is Wendy talking now, not me." she was insistent. "Yeah, maybe. Tied up, ok. By you, ok. In the most painfull manner, probably not."
"Why not?"
"Becuase it would hurt."
"So? Isn't everything on the table. Isn't it all good?"
"Well, yeah. Ummmm... It's Wendy right? For her it might be ok. For me, it wouldn't"
"What would make it ok for you?"
"Some assurances."
"....."
"No damage. Hurt but no scars or injury or whatever. Pain, well ok, but I have to be able to stop it."
"How about if there were real consequences for stopping it?"
"Such as?"
"If you stop it...I'll give you a safe word. Use it and it all stops. Now and forever. Get that? Use the safeword and it all ends, forever."
"Ummm, ok."
"Is that Wendy saying ok, or is that you?"
She hesitated. For a long time. I really began to wonder. I was tinking about what to do next when...
She said,"Ok."
"Realy. OK? You sure??"
"Yeah, whatever."
"And if I can publish it on the web, still whatever?"
"Demi-mask?"
"You got it." I smiled...hell, I grinned.
"Ok."
"I gotta go."
<sigh> I felt so let down. I had the hardest woody of my life and my girl was going. Damn.
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