Corrupted
by Mia Sumner
Supporters only
Log in as a supporterThe chatroom was Kathy’s downfall.
She unraveled slowly, but the chatroom remained at the center. Of course porn wasn’t new to Kathy, it was everywhere on the internet after all. As she got older she found herself more and more drawn to it. At first just curious and then her imagination taking hold as she looked at the salacious images. What was behind the picture? What was the woman thinking? Her mind started to fill in the blanks as her fingers slid between her legs.
Her fantasies were mindless at first, disjointed collages of bodies and limbs entwined. They served their purpose though — she came quickly, efficiently. Able to go to sleep and clear headed the next day. But slowly, the efficiency gave way to indulgence and she lingered on the stories she invented. Her fingers slowed, circling and teasing her clit as she savored the journey, delaying her arrival at the destination. In her imagination the women were always like her: polished, put-together, and yet, ultimately undone by their own desires.
Then the chatroom found her.
Kathy never thought of herself as kinky, just a high achiever who sometimes indulged and let loose a little in private. The chatroom opened a door in her that she had never seen before, never mind attempted to unlock. It started so simply with a link at the underneath a picture she was looking at. “Your Secret Fetish.” was all it said. Pussy already slick from an hour of fevered rubbing, she was easily tempted, clicking on the link to find herself in a room filled with discussions that rand from the mildly naughty to the truly depraved. What she read fascinated her, eve as she told herself that she would only look for a few minutes before closing her laptop and going to sleep.
She found herself obsessed with reading the posts —people sharing fantasies, real-life experiences, desires they couldn’t even admit to their partners. She read for hours: desperate confessions, boastful exploits, and everything in between. In the end she fell asleep, laptop still open and hand between legs.
The next night she was back, glass of wine on hand, reading more. The thought occurred to her that she too could participate in these chats. She resisted at first, wary of how much time this already seemed to be taking, but resistance crumbled as she continued to read. Here was a world that fed her filthy imagination. Raw and unabashed fantasies spelled out in text. Things she had only vaguely thought about and hurriedly pushed away, things that she would never, ever have thought.
She devoured them all with an appetite that shocked her. During the day she was Kathy, Vice President of Sales; successful go-getter; by night she shed that skin and the responsibilities that went with it like a snake.
It only took a week and an extra glass of wine. Her fingers trembled at the keyboard as she typed her first message. She wasn’t sure what to say, how to behave. Would she be judged? But as soon as she saw the words appearing on her screen, those nerves turned to excitement.
“Hi, I’m new here.”
She had barely hit enter before the replies started rolling in, flooding her screen with welcomes, questions and comments that made her heart race as though she’d run up ten flights of stairs.
They called her “K,” and they knew just what she needed. Finding other people to interact with only increased her obsession, and they were only to happy to feed her more and more.
Her breath caught as she read the messages, a thrill snaking through her body. She typed back, one handed, her other busy rubbing her gushing pussy: “Tell me, what you’d do.” The response was immediate — a cascade of scenarios that left no room for modesty or restraint, and she absorbed every word.
Kathy soon found herself spending more and more time in the chatroom. Each message she received was a shot of adrenaline that filed down the edges of her structured life. Soon she lived for those moments when she was alone with her computer. The house silent except for the hum of the laptop’s fun and the sound of her fingers sliding in and out her wet cunt.
The members of the chatroom soon picked up on her eagerness and weakness. Making suggestions, talking her into doing more and more. A week of denial first, then teasing her into edging her increasingly desperate pussy again and again. She began to explore fantasies she never she she had, pushing into territory that once would have terrified her.
She could be anyone, say anything. The weight of her respectable image set aside. No need to make decisions, no one looking for her to be in charge. All she had to do was sink.
But then they created Kathy’s Room.
The rules were deliciously, simple. Kathy had to edge to each image posted in Kathy’s Room. Failure to thank the person and report her edge meant her denial was extended. The game seemed like the perfect, harmless thrill. A stream of porn just for her and the uncertainty of never knowing what would be posted next.
The temptation to visit the chatroom only increased. Another rub, another edge, another report. Her evenings completely occupied by fingers in cunt while the world and its worries faded into the distance.
Over time the instructions became more detailed and the images more extreme. Finger your ass. Slap your cunt. Hump your pillow. And it seemed like there was always some detail she missed, some reason why her denial had to be extended. Her desperation grew, her focus faded, work mattered less and less.
She didn’t know when exactly it happened, but the room name changed. Now it was called Kathy’s Training and the whole chatroom seemed to be participating. Watching, commenting, adding instructions, providing image after image, a never-ending stream of edges.
The stuff they sent, was obscene, it would have revolted her only weeks ago. Now, all she did was edge, it didn’t matter what. Bondage. Anal. Spanking. Piss. Rimming. Rub, edge, report. When Kathy wasn’t working, this was her life.
For now, she still appeared to the world as a respectable, successful and empowered professional woman. On the fast track and destined for success, her whole life focused on climbing the ladder. At home, she rubbed her cunt to depravity and degradation as the chat room slowly broke her down and remolded her to their whims.
Her concentration broken, her reputation protected only by the thin shield of anonymity and her ability to function slowly fading.
Supporters only
Log in as a supporterAfter the flash
Enjoyed this one?
A rating helps. A share helps. A note tells me what to write more of.
Explore this mood