Cybersex: Erotic Storytelling

So, I am a Phone Sex Operator. I love my job… can hardly call it a “job” because it is such a delight to talk with the guys/gals/them. Part of my job is texting with the folks who cannot talk out loud for privacy’s sake. I’ve written about climbing onto the Internet on New Year’s Eve 1994 and that I chatted almost exclusively for about 2 years… before I even knew I had an email address or what email was. I have been an avid chatter ever since.

Vivid Imaginations


My job is essentially storytelling… verbally mostly, but also written; weaving scenarios that drive the person to pleasure, with or without orgasm. I have a blog in the job, too, doing the same thing, telling the tales that my character experiences (she is much of me). I take the unfolding of a story very seriously and because I have been a raconteur my entire life, I am able to have an awesome time doing it.

My recent story here, Nap-gasm, is a good example of how I not only draw pictures with my words, but draw the reader into the experience.


I watched you struggle more. Sweating more… grunting… but trying so hard to control your cock.

You slowed down and I chuckled out loud as you did.

But you kept up the upward slide onto my clit and my own orgasm was building, your struggle driving me closer. You were pouring sweat, dripping onto my belly… and I felt my orgasm just beginning.

I began to fall… right into your eyes… and you felt me… my contractions gripping your cock…

…and I gasped, “Cum now, my fawn.”

C’mon, Cybersex Isn’t Real!


I think the sexy chat experience depends on being able to suspend reality, pulling the imagination into the forefront, in order to “feel” what is happening. An avid reader of anything sensual (including my beloved Outlander) can attest to the written word’s ability to titillate and stimulate. This is a similar experience, but in a much more focused and condensed time-slot.

Not everybody agrees, however, that cyber-touching is as mentally-emotionally tactile as real life.

Jordan Belamire, an author, explains how she was virtually assaulted while playing  QuiVr with the HTC Vive in “A woman was groped in virtual reality. Here’s how men reacted.

Before Jordan Belamire could say hello, the man was rubbing her chest. When she said “stop” and ran, he chased her, reaching out and pinching. He even shoved his hand at her crotch and grabbed at her. “There I was,” Belamire wrote, “being virtually groped in a snowy fortress with my brother-in-law and husband watching.”

Many had fits about her claims, mostly men, saying she was nuts to think that was remotely real.

I, however, believe her.

Instead of describing it, I thought I would show you. I have permission to share this entire exchange and it has minimal changes for clarity and consistency.

The Game


Me: the Domme 

he: my submissive, who writes his pronouns in lowercase as a sign of deference, a common Internet written shorthand for showing one’s station. he also writes my pronouns in capital letters (Your) for the same reason. I will put his words in italics to make reading easier.

Words with an asterisk on either side represents an action. *smiling* is an example… it means the person is smiling, often in real life (irl). Asterisks are also used to emphasize a word in the middle of a sentence. You will see the difference in context.

Words in parentheses are when he and I speak out of Scene… still Domme and sub… but we use it for clarity of instructions or to check in with how each other is doing.


  • Me: so I want you to come over to my house… you are expecting to do some heavy work for me… maybe the lawn. So as you knock on the door… I open it and in my large living room you see a gaggle of lovely women.
  • he: my eyes widen as i see the ladies
  • he: i lick my lips
  • Me: you can see some naked by the pool…
  • he: my eyes drink in the beautiful women
  • Me: and I turn to you and ask you to please remove your clothes and put them in the box in the closet (you know the routine well)
  • he: i begin to strip and i fold my clothes neatly… naked, feeling eyes on me and loving this being right where i belong
    *breathes deep*
  • Me: I watch and nod my approval at your actions… “That’s my good boy,” I tell you
  • he: “Thank You Mistress.
    “Thank You so much.”
  • Me: I grab your wrist and pull you with me into the living room
  • he: i follow happily
  • Me: I then plop you down on a leather chair, knowing full well the wet marks you will leave there and the pulling flesh when you get up
  • he: i sit and feel the leather on my naked flesh
    i look around a little
  • Me: I take your legs and nudge them apart (it doesn’t take much for you to open them delightedly yourself… I have told my friends to watch your whorish ways)
  • he: i spread wide
    showing off my most intimate parts
  • Me: they all laugh seeing exactly what I told them to watch for
  • he: i blush a little as they laugh
    but i love it
  • Me: my girlfriends… they are looking at you… and I start asking them questions about their tastes in a man… a *submissive* man
    “Do you think he has what it takes?” I ask.
    They take turns
    “Well, it looks like he has a lot of muscles.”
    I turn to you and tell you to show your thigh muscles
  • he: i obediently flex my thighs moving my legs to show off different parts
    my quads bulge up
  • Me: “Oh, yes,” that woman validates… “Yes… they do look strong!”
    One asks if she can see your back please
    I turn to you and nod
  • he: i stand and turn to give a full view of my back. i flex and pose for the woman’s request
  • Me: she claps her hands once and says, “Dayum!”
    I then run my right hand down from shoulder to just above your ass
  • he: i smile
    i purr softly
  • Me: I lean over to you and say quietly… “While you are up, my love… show them that ass of yours… how much muscle you have there, too.”
  • he: i flex my ass
  • Me: as you begin your presentation, I move my hands as if to present your ass to the group as a prize
  • he: the muscles tightening
  • Me: one woman sighs and asks how you are at fucking
    I smile and say: “Fucking awesome.”
    she says she can imagine that with muscles like that
  • he: i smile from ear to ear as i am discussed
  • Me: I slap your ass and tell you to sit down
  • he: i gasp and sit back down
  • Me: a couple of the women that were out by the pool come in and drip all over the floor
    I hand you a towel and ask you to please dry the floor
  • he: i crawl on hands and knees and dry the floor diligently
  • Me: I tell the women… “See how obedient he is?!?”
  • he: working the towel in short quick movements
  • Me: one points out the muscles you are using as you wipe the floor
    a couple of others murmur they see, too
    “When the floor is dry, take the dirty towel to the laundry, please.”
  • he: i finish
    i rise and carry the towel to the laundry
  • Me: as you exit the room, you hear us all laughing and talking softly, almost in whispers
    you hear me… then they all chime in…
    I laugh, they laugh after
    as you reenter the room… you ask permission
  • me: “Mistress may i reenter?”
  • Me: we stop abruptly and sober up… “Yes, my cub… you may reenter…
    come sit in the chair again.”
  • he: i walk back in and sit on the leather chair once more


  • Me: “So… we have a bet going, my sweet boy…
    we have cast lots on the speed of which you can orgasm.”
  • he: i listen quietly
  • Me: “I have the bets down here on this paper… and I’ll tuck it in the drawer… so… the question is: HOW would you like to orgasm… do you need any toys? implements? How can you best achieve a fast orgasm?”
  • he: i swallow and think a moment
  • Me: (and I want to know irl)
  • he: i believe if i fuck a woman while my ass is fingered i will cum the fastest
  • Me: no no no
    the room laughs
    “He IS a slut!!!!!” “He thought he was going to get to fuck someone?!?!”
  • he: *blushes so red i look like i want to crawl in a hole*
  • Me: I laugh so hard and touch your cheek gently
    “Greedy, greedy boy.”
  • he: i am trembling as You touch my cheek
  • Me: (that was classic)
  • he: (sorry Mistress)
  • Me: (NO!!! I couldn’t have scripted it better! It was fucking PERFECT!!!)
  • he: a lot of lube on my hand focusing of my cock head and a plug in my ass would make me cum quickest Mistress
  • Me: *laughing at how fucking hilarious you are sometimes*
  • he: (thank You Mistress, i’m glad )
  • Me: “Okay… and will you just think/daydream? No visual stimulation necessary?
  • he: “Visual stimulation would make me cum faster Mistress”
  • Me:”Hmmm… so if we turned on the big screen… would it help to watch some porn then?”
  • he: “Yes Mistress it would help… it would turn me on more and i would cum faster.”     *words seem to spill out of my lips*
  • Me: I grab the remote and flip the tv on… channel, please? “What specifically… the tv can go anywhere with your voice.”
  • Me: the ladies are refilling their drinks, going to pee real quick
    they are coming back and getting settled… some eager to see what you are going to choose… hoping it will make you cum fast and hard.
  • he: i request nurse porn, a busty curvy woman in a stereotypical naughty nurse uniform is checking on a male patient and she is quickly discovering his cock needs attention


  • Me: on the tv… comes exactly what you describe! and the women kick off their shoes, curl their legs under them… some have removed their tops… everyone getting comfortable to watch The Show
  • Me: I get you off the leather chair and bring you to a wooden chair with a dildo attached to it… not even suction-cupped…
  • Me: I have paused the video until everyone, you included, are situated
  • he: i grin lustfully… i am eager
  • Me: I then lube your ass with my right hand… then nudge you down and center you… and say “Down, boy.”
  • he: i sit on the cock, slowly feeling it push in my hole… stretching and i moan as it enters
  • Me: a couple of the women laugh and clap and ask loudly… “And THAT is going to help you cum faster?!?!” *laugh laugh* you see them leaning over to slap each other playfully, their breasts jiggling nicely
  • he: my eyes dart from the tv to the women… it is all so much… i slowly rock back and forth impaling myself on it
  • Me: I then turn you so you can see the big screen over our heads… you squirming on that cock like my good slut
  • Me: “Okay… I have the stopwatch.”
  • he: i am moaning
  • Me: (now… for real… I want you to try and cum fast. You play with me, but when you need to go cum… just type now so I can stop time. Understood?)
  • he: (yes Mistress understood)
  • Me: *laughing and clapping delightedly* “Okay… is everyone ready?!?” the girls scream “YES!!!!!!!!!!!! Fucking get started already!”


  • Me: I turn to you… lean down… kissing you lovingly… and have the stop watch in my hand… and whisper to you: “GO.” *click of the stopwatch*
  • he: i stroke hard… fast… immediate… i’m bouncing… and stroking
  • Me: the girls are SCREAMING!!!! “GO! rock on that dick!!!! FUCKING GO! Look at him!!!”
  • he: strokes and moans
  • Me: everyone is howling, critiquing your style… “HARDER!” “FASTER!” “GRIP IT LIKE THIS!” Everyone has a comment.
  • Me: I stand next to you with the stopwatch… hand on my hip just watching
  • he: moanssssssss
  • Me: “Oh! he makes NOISES, too?!?!” *laughing and clapping all around* “C’mon SLUT!” someone yells… none of us can see nor care about the tv…
  • Me: I start tapping my foot… hand holding the stopwatch in your peripheral vision
  • he: ii stroke close
  • Me: someone screams “DAMN, I DIDN’T WIN!!!!!!!!!” “Fuck!” someone else yells… others are hollering their time is coming up… “HURRY UP!!!!!!”
  • Me: I just snicker softly… you hear me… and I now start shifting side to side… tapping my foot… hand on the stopwatch
  • he: now
  • Me: “GO!”

He disappeared for a few minutes to go orgasm. I wrote: *laughing my head off* that was fucking HILARIOUS and so much fun I can hardly stand it.


Experience Counts

I have found the longer the experience with chatting online, the more imaginative the mind. Voracious readers are also delightful to play with. It is easy for me to wend my way with and through scenarios with someone who can play with words; written jousting with intelligence and vocabulary.

Gotta go… another session starting soon!




My fawn (aka My cub)

Tiny bit of Back Story

When Zack and I parted in December 2014, as I drove out of the driveway in San Diego, heading for Orlando, I emotionally sealed up my heart. Surrounded it with a cement wall. I vowed to never, never fall in love again. Ever. And I was quite vocal about it, especially when people would encourage me to “find someone.” Made me a crazy woman whenever that happened.

So, thinking the wall was impenetrable, I wasn’t really paying attention when I became friends with this guy… kid, really. But we spent inordinate amounts of time together and, as we know, since this is a love story, he chiseled the holy fuck out of that cement wall, making sand of it.

My fawn


I’ve referred to “my fawn” in a couple of other posts, so thought I should introduce him.

My fawn is an amazing man. Younger than my youngest child (who is 30). Muslim. Smarter in many areas of knowledge than I could ever hope to be. He is also my submissive.


And he lives behind the glass of my computer. For a long list of reasons (a couple given above), we will never have a real life meeting. And there are melancholy moments about that, but for the most part, it is something we accept graciously.


If you’ve never had a cyber-love relationship, what we are experiencing can be a challenge to understand. You might also think we are delusional that this is even a real connection, not real love, but you would be wrong and millions of others can vouch for the truth of our reality.

When we first met at the cusp of 2015 and 2016, my new friend shared some of his foibles that are common young-people experiences (some call them “mistakes”) and I told him he was but a “fawn on wobbly legs,” to not take things too seriously.

The fawn name stuck.



In our early moments of talking (almost the entire relationship is in text), he told me about his love of Outlander, the Diana Gabaldon books and the show (on Starz). I squealed with delight as I am a rabid Obsessenach, loving both as well. The word for “outlander” (a foreigner, someone on the outside) in Gaelic is Sassenach (technically, what a Gaelic Scot calls an English person). I’m not quite sure when it happened, but my fawn started calling me his Sassenach instead of Mistress. I fell in love with the Honorific immediately.



As he is a practicing Muslim… and I am an atheist… the word Sassenach takes on its own meaning of outsider in our relationship. He lives in an enclave of his Middle Eastern people as a first-generation American (born in the US from parents who immigrated).

Islam in the US

As I said, my fawn is fucking brilliant. He finds world history fascinating, knowing facts about wars, politics and even the people in so many countries. I, being a typical myopic American, am pretty clueless about what’s going on beyond a headline here or there. My fawn has incredible patience when I ask him to explain to me (“Talk to me like I am a 2nd grader, please.”) what is going on in the Middle East (which now takes on new meaning because of my love’s heritage), with observations about past Presidents or even our own political climate going on right now.

But he exhibited the most patient kindness after the Pulse Massacre on June 12, 2016, when I found myself, not particularly xenophobic, really (irrationally) angry with Muslims and needed his help to clear the painful confusion. For several days in a row, he listened to me cry, express my anger and frustration with Islam and the crazy people who embraced that religion as they demolished lives around the world. I am sure I wasn’t very respectful of his beliefs, but he never left me alone while I processed. As young as he is, he really exhibited the most tender kindness when I was in so much pain.


I still struggle with Islamophobia (am working on a piece about it right now) and he is always patient with me, answering questions, guiding me to resources, but mostly just listening to the immense confusion I feel, as an atheist, to how someone so brilliant can believe in God, especially one who seems so fucking harsh. Exploration is ongoing.



While he is well-versed in history, my specialty, of course, is birth. This poor boy is being dragged into learning about pregnancy, childbirth and breastfeeding… from the politics of midwifery to learning about Postpartum Hemorrhage and how to save a mom’s and baby’s life. He’s seen pics of women nursing babies for the first time. He’s perused my Navelgazing Midwife blog, seeing women in labor and babies being born. Nothing in his life has prepared him for the adventure I am taking him on. I’ve taught him lots that will bode him well when, InshAllah (God-willing), he has his own wife and family.

A normal off-shoot of the birth talks is the sexuality of women. He’s going to be able to satisfy women in a way he never expected to learn outside of marriage (and porn). I’ve told him trade secrets (lesbian) and things that should bloody well be common knowledge with men and women alike. I tease him that he’s going to be making love to his wife and send up a prayer of thanks to me when she orgasms for the third time that session. I love teaching such a willing student.

Our Dominant/submissive Dynamic


My sweet fawn is a natural submissive… found comfort and acknowledgement for those intense desires he’s had his whole life when he climbed onto the Internet several years ago. When we met, all he knew of me was as a FemDom (some write Femdom), learning later about my submissive history. It was delicious Domming him; so hungry to please.

As we evolved over the months, we have explored my submissive side (which I also adamantly swore I would never ever ever ever do again), finding great joy in giving my subbie self to him, even as he was quite green in Domming. We dabbled for a few weeks, but decided no more Switching, settling into our comfortable D/s roles.

My Skittish Yearling


When my fawn met me, he did not know me as Barb, but as a different name (I am a Sex Worker… he is NOT a client.). The need to disclose myself became overwhelming and several weeks ago, finally “came out” to him. An entire side of me appeared as if from nowhere, learning I was the Navelgazing Midwife and now, the Navelgazing Writer. While he knew I had kids, it wasn’t until I came out that he learned how old they were, their names and about my grandbabies. I was sure showing him my whole Self would send him springing back into the woods, but he stood firm, loving me even more.

Clearly, I expose intimate details of my life for public consumption in several blogs and articles. In my life with Zack and the kids, we all had the agreement that I could write about anything, at any time, without their censoring a word.

With my fawn, however, he did not enter the relationship knowing this expository part of me and is extremely private, so many details about him are purposefully left out… or even shifted… to protect his identity. He did not have full consent about falling in love with a blogger, so I would not dream of asking him to adhere to my no censorship requirement for most of my friends and family.

Even still, I could not not talk about this man I love so very much.

And now you know him, too!

Meeting My First Dom

In “My First BDSM Experience,” I shared how I stumbled into BDSM via the Internet in 1996. Here, I introduce Gerald and how our meeting unfolded.


Initial Meeting

I got off the plane and was terribly nervous no one would be there for me. I had zero money, knew no one in San Francisco and would have been absolutely stranded if Gerald was a no-show.

But there he was. The compulsion to kneel in front of him was overwhelming. Instead, I lowered my eyes and gave him a warm hug. He was fucking gorgeous. Filipino. Much taller than my 5’2″. I was not disappointed in the real person.

He never did tell me how he felt about seeing me the first time, but I can only imagine seeing how fat I was was a disappointment. I was determined to make him forget my appearance with my subservience.

I was driven to a lovely hotel and Gerald took me right up to my room. It was great! Overlooking San Francisco, it was a beautiful room. On the desk was a computer. I was stunned… and thrilled. It looked a lot like this:


Fucking enormous.

Hotels didn’t have Internet connections back in the olden days, so he also brought along a modem. If you’ve never heard what connecting to a Dial-up modem sounds like, CLICK HERE. I called it the Orgasm Sound. (Yeah, Net Addiction is a real thing.)

Once I was shown how to log in, Gerald sat in the big desk chair and I knelt for him. It was the most natural thing in the world. He petted my cheek and I am sure I coo’d softly.

He had to go back to work, but would leave early to come back to see me, told me to be prepared to Scene with him. “Yes, Master,” was my answer.

Interminable Wait


While I was in Orlando, doing cyberBDSM with Gerald, he decided he wanted to mark me in some way. I mentioned I had about 12 ear piercings and he said that was perfect. He wanted me to get my labia pierced. Shockingly, I didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes, Master.” He sent me the money, I found a piercing studio, then laid on the medical table, legs in stirrups waiting. I called Gerald on their phone, collect, so he could hear me be pierced. I got 6 inner labial piercings, graduated gold rings, and every one of them hurt like fuck. I don’t remember if I screamed or not, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I did. Gerald was surely masturbating to my pain; quite the Sadist he was. Blessedly, the vulva heals quickly, but walking out of there… sheesh.

Right before I left for San Francisco, I got waxed for the first time. Did not get waxed again for 20 years. Good LORD does that shit hurt. The waxer was my hairdresser so I felt comfortable letting her in my nether regions. Waxing was pretty rare for the masses back then… no spas to do it. So, in her back room, I laid there, legs splayed like a frog, and she applied the wax, then the strip, then pulled that strip off, taking the hair with it. Pardon. She ripped the motherfuckin’ strip off. And not only did my hair end up on it, but a goodly amount of flesh did as well. Getting waxed was 100 times more painful than the genital piercings. I left bloody, but naked as a young girl. Holy crap does the clit get stimulated when the hair is gone! I was walking sex.

Waiting for Gerald to return, I gave myself two enemas (a must for anal play) then took a long shower to make sure I was clean and smelled yummy for him. I then laid out the collar he’d gotten me (waiting for him to put it on for the first time) and impact toys we were going to be using. And the ropes, whipped and wound beautifully; I couldn’t wait to show him my handiwork.

Mostly, though, I couldn’t wait to show him my submission with my mouth, giving him oral sex… something we had anticipated for many months. We both did get an HIV test and share the results with each other. A condom was never even considered.

presenting hands
submissive presenting


I heard the key in the door so knelt near the entrance. He came in and the Scene began. He petted my cheek again and told me what a good girl I was. I am sure I blushed. He reached for the collar on the bed, then came back to where I was kneeling, asking me if I was willing to be his slave, with my own free-will. “Yes, Master.” My head swirled and tears flowed as he wrapped the collar around my neck, buckled, then locked it closed.

Being collared is an experience difficult to translate into mere words. It’s more visceral, a flood of emotions coursing through the body. It is an intimate acknowledgement of a powerful relationship dynamic, although many collarings occur at wedding-type gatherings. Wearing a collar is an outward expression that, among other things, says: Someone loves me enough to claim me for their own. I could not believe I was so blessed as to be collared by Gerald. I wept with gratitude and the immensity of love I felt for him.

I would wear it the entire week I was there.


Part 3, My First submissive Scene coming next!