Emma had it all. At 28 she had a growing and satisfying freelance career, she had a supportive family, a small but dedicated circle of friends, a body that could snap heads around with a danger of injury, and a queue of lovers that her friends envied. Her parents had done very well in business, setting up a trust fund for their only child that now met all her all basic needs and then some. Emma had everything most girls could want, but deep inside she wasn’t like most girls.

Emma remembered what first introduced her to the fetish. She was 14 and bored out of her mind with her English paper on…. a subject too dull to be remembered. Flipping on her bedroom's TV she decided to take in some late-night vid before sleep. She hit on a movie from the eighties called “Videodrome”. It’s social message was lost on Emma, but its imagery of captivity and sexual violence left her sweating with inexplicable excitement. She couldn't shake it and its stark, isolated dungeons filled her dreams. The experience ignited a fire in the animal part of her brain that had only burned more intense since that fateful night.

Those feelings drove her to crave domination, to feel overwhelmed, overpowered, and used by a commanding figure. She wanted to be “a thing” – a helpless toy made of tender female flesh, totally subjugated by the dark desires of another. She wanted to lose herself in a shapeless world of fear, sensation, and total vulnerability. She wanted to free fall down a dark well pain, her arms forcibly outstretched in abandon.

She craved this like she craved nothing else, but she was all too aware that such desires were outside the usual social norms. At times, she would be ashamed of her thoughts, and try to push them out of her mind, but it always came back stronger. In the privacy of her apartment she sought pictures of BDSM, images, videos, anything that would satiate her desire. While imagining herself as the subject of these images helped, she still wanted to experience it for real - to writhe in tight binds, to struggle helplessly, to lose all control.

Over the years Emma had many lovers. They were all attractive and caring, but they all lacked one basic quality: the ability to really please her in the bedroom. They treated her as if she was a porcelain doll, gently holding her and caressing her, constantly asking if she was OK. They expected the daughter of such a family to be the consummate good girl with her polished public exterior carrying over to her bedroom manner. They couldn't possibly imagine what lay beneath the surface of Emma's facade.

She had confided some details to a couple of them. One boyfriend in the midst of an argument playfully told her if she didn't stop pouting, he would have to tie her up. Her eyes flashed with passion, as she looked at him, a seductive look, a look most men would jump at. "Well, if you want to, I wouldn't stop you." she cooed, her body warming just at the thought of it. Her boyfriend got a nervous look on his face and stammering, changed the subject.

Another time, she was giving a lover a blowjob, working him over passionately. She loved giving head and while deep throating him she pushed herself to the edge. For as long as she could she held his cock in place, filling her throat as her lungs screamed for air. Her face reddened and nostrils flared as she continued to take him in, hoping he would hold her head firmly down letting her up only when she was about to pass out. Alas, it was not to be. She finally gave up, gasping and wheezing, her boyfriend looking at her strangely, asking her if she was OK, caressing her face softly, telling her to be careful.

After that, Emma knew she would have to stop looking to her existing pool of lovers to fulfill her needs. She was convinced that somehow, someway, she had to find a way to fulfill her wants, her deepest fantasies. Her desires drove her into the Internet’s shadows, searching for an opportunity. Then one night, reading through the fetish boards she often perused, she saw the post that looked like it could unlock the door.

The post was short and sweet and to the point. It read:

WANTED: Female tired of hiding from herself - Northeast, USA I know you are out there, and you are tired of playing the games. You no longer want to be that good girl that everyone you used to know expected, and you are looking here to get away from that. This is about fulfilling your deepest and darkest need, a need to submit, a need to be restrained, a need to feel the dominance of another controlling you in every way. Want to really experience it? It is simple to get it, and easy to find. You have to trust and email nomoregoodgirl@yahoo.com. Only the serious and willing need apply.

Emma read the post. She stared at the screen, each word meaningless by itself, but put together, they were magic. It was if the ad was speaking to her, written about her, for her to see and answer. She could feel her arousal build just reading back the words. "Submit" "Restrained". The thought of something out there for her that fulfilled her unquenched desire made her head spin. She wondered what the post really meant. What did it mean to really experience it? She clicked on the email link and began to type a short message declaring her interest. She could feel the moistness between her thighs as she typed, the idea so hot, so wild to her. She had never done anything like this before. She finished the email and read it back. As she did, a feeling of uncertainty washed over her. Her nerves began to get the best of her. What had she been thinking? This was any random person who could be a psychopath. She had no idea what she would be getting herself into. She couldn't possibly take the risk of meeting a total stranger, subjecting herself to the ideas in the ad. She had wanted to be taken roughly, tied down, made to obey in the worst way, but with someone she knew, someone she trusted. Not by answering a post on a fetish board. The rational side of Emma won and she quickly clicked off her computer, the idea to be shelved for another day.

A few weeks went by and Emma's mind drifted to other things. She had been working a lot, seeing friends and living her life. Yet every so often her mind would drift back to that ad. The mysterious ad which promised so much. She found herself wondering if it could possibly be the real thing. Every time the idea popped in her head, she quickly shook it off, chiding herself for harboring such a thought. Why did she have to like this so much. It frustrated and confused her that someone such as herself, strong, passionate, career oriented could long to be completely at someone else's mercy.

One night in bed, she sat with her laptop, reading the ad again, so turned on yet so fearful of what could happen. Her mind was whirling with thoughts. As she lay there contemplating it, she drifted off to sleep, the post brightly displayed on her screen.

As she slept, her mind continued to whir, transporting her a dark room, a spotlight seemingly shining on her body. She was bound naked to a iron chair, the seat having been removed. Her mouth stuffed with some kind of thick pliable object, layers of thick black duct tape affixed to her lower face. Her arms were secured tightly behind her back, at the elbows and wrists. Wires ran from a sinister looking box attached to her nipples, pussy and clit with small clamps. Her eyes welled with tears as she struggled in her binds, a wire wrapped tightly around her neck and secured to the back of the chair holding her tightly in place. Next to her a small ticking clock appeared, the seconds creeping down towards the zero hour, her eyes glued to it, knowing that once the buzzer ran off the box would work its magic, sending powerful volts of electricity through her, the pain overwhelming her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for the timer to wind down, the constant ticking making her want to scream as loudly as she could. In the distance she could see a shadowy figure, lurking, watching her about to suffer, craving her screams, her pain, her endless suffering. The timer finally arrived at the zero hour, the buzzer going off.

Immediately, she felt the surge of electricity enter her breasts and pussy, her body feeling as if it were on fire. She braced herself for the excruciating pain, pain which she had never felt before. But instead, her body suddenly felt warm, the electricity coursing through her most sensitive parts began to stimulate her, her nipples hardening, her exposed sex moistening as her body tingled. She arched her back with pleasure, the gagged moans emanating from her packed mouth moans of unbridled lust, her breasts rising and falling as a sheen of perspiration glistened from her voluptuous form, her body building rapidly to a powerful orgasm. The wires attached to her continued to ply her as she bucked and brayed in her chair, her pussy and clit's stimulation sending her over the edge quickly, a wild and uninhibited orgasm taking hold, as her pussy clenched repeatedly, her gagged screams of pleasure filling the otherwise dark room. The orgasm continuing on and on seemingly never ending as she felt her fingers and toes curl with passion.

Emma's head shot up off her pillow with a startle. Her body was covered in perspiration. She moved her hand down between her legs, her pussy was wet, practically soaked from the erotic dream she had just had. She stared wide eyed in the comfort of her bedroom. It had all seemed so vivid, so real. She could feel the adrenaline surging through her body and knew she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon. Her mind immediately drifted back to the post. The post seeking someone. At that moment, she knew. She knew it had to be her. It was meant to be. She couldn't wait any longer. Before her doubts crept in, she turned on her computer, quickly logging in to the site and pulling up the post. She stared at it, wondering if she had saved the email from a few weeks back. She looked back in her folders and sure enough there it was, still waiting. She hesitated a second, and then clicked send, her mouth letting out a little gasp as the mouse clicked and the email left her outbox. It was out there. She felt her heart beating fast as she thought about what she had done. She read the email back to herself again:

Hello,

I'm just outside of New York City. I am the person you described in your post. I'm tired of being a good girl. I want to be dominated, restrained and forced to submit. I want to find out how this can be done. Please send me details of what you have in mind. I need this.

Emma