Pat Kole

Disclaimer – this is a work of fiction, a mosaic of fantasies and multiple online sessions with multiple dom(mes). If you recognize your work, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I sat down in front of the computer with a bit of trepidation. It was time for the weekly Saturday morning session with Ozzy. My mind was already drifting into subspace as I looked at the box that he sent me. It was still sealed, but something in it jingled. I had my laptop booted, the mike hooked up, and cam was active. I sat and waited for him to log on. Sometimes I wondered if he purposely delayed logging in to drive home that I waited at his convenience. I smiled as I saw his name appear. ...

(story continues from Trisha – Finding My Way Chapter 6: Folsom Street Fair) Disclaimer: Thanks to Feline and JD, without whose help the story would not have come out as smoothly as you see it. All websites referenced in the story are imaginary URLs based on real websites. Chapter 7: Epilogue The business card dropped in my armbinder pocket was from Gail Hernandez, an electronics consultant. I’m happy to say we’ve been together for about a year now. ...

This is the first day of our London vacation. I know it’s playtime. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks with anticipation and dread. I come out of the shower, naked. Just a blank canvas for the picture Dave chooses to create. The first thing he has me do is put on a pair of slutty looking 5” black wedge heels. Clearly a man’s fantasy brought to life. A strap across the front of my ankles makes sure they stay in place. They are taller than I am used to, and so I teeter a bit as I test out the shoes, walking back and forth. I hope I won’t be on my feet *too* long. ...

In hindsight, I should have seen this coming. I grew up in a poor family. I wanted better for myself. I knew I didn’t have the brains to get ahead, so I would use my looks. During each annual school physical, I would be diagnosed with kyphosis (hunchback), and was warned that delaying wearing some hideous brace only made the problem worse, and thus longer to be stuck in it. I didn’t want to hear it, and my family lacked the money for it anyway. ...

(story continues from Wench for a Weekend) Part Two The next morning, I woke up, and got up to the smell of breakfast. I didn’t bother getting dressed (They’d both already seen all I had!), and headed downstairs. Master had already cooked up some bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Mistress bid me join them for breakfast. There were three seats. Master was sitting in one, Mistress in another, and the third had an enormous looking, pre-lubed butt-plug strapped down to the seat in just the right location. I got the hint. I carefully positioned my butt over the huge phallus. Master smiled, watching me. He passed the butter tray. “If you need anything more, help yourself.” ...

I knew that Bruce and I were going to a party tonight. One of THOSE parties - a bondage party on the first night of a sci-fi convention. I was already nervous, remembering how Bruce said what he might do with me. He was going to gag me, then use our leather manacles to hold my wrists to the opposite elbow behind my back. As soon as we got into the party, he’d make me strip butt-naked, tie a string between my wrists, and dangle a Ping-Pong paddle from it, such that it was butt-high, then write “Spank me!” in large letters on my back with a marker. The idea of it got me hot - I love public bondage and humiliation with a willing audience. ...

Disclaimer: Thanks to Feline and JD, without whose help the story would not have come out as smoothly as you see it. All websites referenced in the story are imaginary URLs based on real websites. Chapter 1 – The Beginning. Life is hard. I’ll pour myself another glass of wine from the box and tell you how I got here. I’m Tricha Sarks. I was born in Newtok, Alaska. Never heard of it? The town is a zillion miles from civilization, so small that all the roads end at the edge of town; you need a plane, boat or snowmobile to get anywhere else. It’s nestled between the freezing cold tundra and the freezing Bering Sea. The long cold night of October through March was too much for me. I had to get away, so I took a wild chance. I recently moved to San Francisco without a job lined up, no friends outside of Alaska, and no local family. I’m good looking and an excellent dancer. I figured I would get a job as a model, or a dance instructor or something. ...

(story continues from Trisha – Finding My Way - Chapter 1 – The Beginning) Disclaimer: Thanks to Feline and JD, without whose help the story would not have come out as smoothly as you see it. All websites referenced in the story are imaginary URLs based on real websites. Chapter 2 – The Rain Date A month and a half had gone by since my public bondage gig. The phone rang, and of course I’m home. I don’t go out very often, and it’s lonely here. Only two people ever called. The first is my parents trying to get me to move back to Alaska. The second is a bill collector wanting money. I don’t want to speak to either of them, but I answered the phone anyway. ...

(story continues from Trisha – Finding My Way Chapter 2 – The Rain Date) Disclaimer: Thanks to Feline and JD, without whose help the story would not have come out as smoothly as you see it. All websites referenced in the story are imaginary URLs based on real websites. Chapter 3: Halloween Dave was getting set for his Halloween update. I agreed to be dressed as a crazy lady, walking through crowded downtown San Francisco. It was close enough to Halloween that people should understand. The gig gets me out of my lonely house for a day, away from the collection calls. ...

(story continues from Trisha – Finding My Way Chapter 3: Halloween) Disclaimer: Thanks to Feline and JD, without whose help the story would not have come out as smoothly as you see it. All websites referenced in the story are imaginary URLs based on real websites. Chapter 4: The Party It’s been two weeks since my operation. Dave already has me staying in his guest bedroom, and I’ll be moved out of my apartment at the end of the month. Dave used the power of attorney. I didn’t sign a thing. I’m nervous and comforted at the same time. My large cleavage pokes out a lot, making gaps in button down blouses and always being prominently displayed. Like a lot of guys, Dave loves to stare at my boobs longingly. Linda did take me out bra shopping. All of my other bras simply can’t contain my cleavage any longer. ...

(story continues from Trisha – Finding My Way Chapter 4: The Party) Disclaimer: Thanks to Feline and JD, without whose help the story would not have come out as smoothly as you see it. All websites referenced in the story are imaginary URLs based on real websites. Chapter 5: Suburban Health Care True to his word, Dave got me quite a few gigs from that party. I had no idea that people would pay money to see a video of a woman with a broken leg, but they will! I’ll take their money! I did a long gig being videotaped crutching around the mall for Chicks-On-Sticks.com, and did a few shots showing off my immobilized broken leg for other fetish sites as well! With my leg being held immobile for two months limiting my ability to get most work, earning money for being videotaped while shopping is a good career when you can get it. ...

(story continues from Trisha – Finding My Way Chapter 5: Suburban Health Care) Disclaimer: Thanks to Feline and JD, without whose help the story would not have come out as smoothly as you see it. All websites referenced in the story are imaginary URLs based on real websites. Chapter 6: Folsom Street Fair I had recovered from my injury, and life was going pretty well for a change. The Folsom Street Fair was coming up. Dave offered me a private gig – I would be dressed as he pleased as we went through the fair. He assured me this gig was absolutely no public nudity. Despite having a modest bank account, I knew I needed the money. Dave paid well for what I did, and Linda would kill him if he touched me. I agreed to do it. ...

I’d been talking to him for a few months over the computer. I don’t know if he ever told me his name. If so, I had long forgotten it. I now knew him only as “Master”, and preferred it that way. He asked me what I wanted to be called, and I chose “Wench” - more creative than “slave”, and I sure would serve him like a serving wench would. This wasn’t exactly a “normal” relationship, even as dom/subs go. He was married to another woman - his “Mistress”. His problem was, with their different work schedules, the few times they got to spend together, she wanted to be in control - he is a switch, and needed an escape for his dominant half. That’s where I fit in. ...