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Controlled by the man she met online; A master-slave connection(2)
"Good to see you," he responded. "Alone?" "Yes. You?" He gave her a smiley face. It was impossible to know his moods when he first signed on. He might be gentle and want to chat and perhaps discuss his day or hers, or he might want her right away and take her without a word, like a dog takes his b***h in an alley, having her get down on all fours, grabbing her hair and humping away. Not knowing—that was part of the excitement. Helen wasn't a perfect slave either, which was why she resented the word. She wasn't a doormat. She resisted. She didn't mean to, or at least she didn't think she meant to, at least, not as much as she did, but she did nonetheless. It was complicated; she didn't understand it herself. He was usually stingy in his use of her web cam, finding it too distracting to
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