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The Closet Door, Chapter 1: Chatroomthis story is part of the FanClub (fm:male domination, 2569 words) [1/5]
Author: WinterbloomAdded: Dec 28 2012Views/Reads: 1297/796 [61%]Part vote: 8.90 (20 votes)
A woman with submissive fantasies finds a mysterious man on the internet who may be willing to help her explore the darker side of her sexuality. This chapter is primarily introductory.
 


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Chapter 1: Chatroom 

I suppose you could say it all started twenty years ago, during a game
of hide-and-seek, when, hidden in a closet while the person who was 
"it" prowled the room visible only through a tiny vertical streak of 
light, I realized that being trapped and helpless was a source of 
profound excitement.  There was nothing sexual in my five-year-old 
head, but my heart beat faster, my breath came shorter, and I felt a 
tension in the pit of my stomach--all things I would one day associate 
with sexual ardor.  I was torn between a child's glee at her own clever 
hiding place and swelling desire to be caught, to have my cousin rip 
open the closet door, grab me by the neck and yank me out with 
inexplicable fury.  Perhaps that was an odd thing to want.  It didn't 
really occur to me at the time. 

But it really started in the middle of the night on a rainy Saturday.  I
was in one of my antisocial moods and so I stayed in, watched a movie, 
that kind of thing.  Restless, I went into a chatroom that I used to 
frequent often.  Ostensibly a political debate channel, it (like many 
IRC channels) was in actuality a sort of casual hangout spot for a 
regular crowd plus the occasional visitor, and the conversation rarely 
turned to politics. 

This time, however, there was a debate raging between several newcomers
and an old regular that I never knew well.  It was about smoking in 
bars--legislation had just passed in my city making it illegal.  
Without putting much thought into it, I joined the newcomers in support 
of the law.  I've never been a smoker, and find that smokey rooms make 
my eyes water.  Within a few minutes, the newcomers had dropped out of 
the conversation, beaten, and I found myself in a back-and-forth with 
the old regular, whose handle was Cyrus.  I quickly became annoyed, as 
Cyrus had a precise and patronizing style of argument.  He turned me in 
circles, quickly twisting my words to weaken my position, and then 
countering with arguments that sounded increasingly reasonable.  Why 
not offer a tax credit to non-smoking establishments to ensure that 
there are both smoking and non-smoking options?  Why not have workers 
in smoking bars sign waivers claiming that they accept the health 
risks, and ensure that they be paid more?  Since I didn't feel 
particularly strongly about the issue, I eventually gave up as well, 
signing off with a frustrated parting shot. 

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This is part 1 of a total of 5 parts.


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