Four Weeks

I don't own Overwatch or any of it's characters

She moaned loudly in bittersweet ecstasy as the leather straps from the flogger crashed against her tender flesh. Her hands gripped onto the chains that had bound face-down her into the heavy table. She rested her head against the wooden surface when the blows stopped, her panting face showed relief for a moment before a look of unease replaced it. She craned her neck the best she could to try and find her Mistress. The other woman chose to hover just outside her blind spot. She whisked the flogger to the open area beside her, watching her sub twitch at the crescendo of displaced air. "You've been a bad little girl. No begging, no 'thank you.' I'm beginning to think I'm taking it too easy on you."

She began gasping an apology for her disrespect when Lena's bedroom door burst open. "O.M.G. Lena, you didn't plug your headphone jack all the way in again!" Hana shouted to her roommate. The British girl shrieked as her fingers shot out of her wet folds to cover herself. "I've told you, like, a thousand times to either upgrade to wireless or turn off the sound!" She slammed the door behind her. Lena's tomato red face whimpered in frustration. Shutting her laptop closed, she pulled up her pants with a sigh.

"You need to find an outlet or something. Like, nude knitting or whatever people like you do to get your kicks." Lena had been sitting listening to Hana scold her for the last half hour. The conversation was endless. Lena was learning all about computer viruses from porn sites, shady back traces that could lead to their house, the proper use of speakers, privacy, how loud she could be by herself, and all the dangers of not being educated about her fetishes. The only breaks she got were when Hana would stop waving a spoon at her long enough to take a sip of soda. Lena wondered how she was able to stay in shape living off caffeine and streaming all night long. The British girl didn't want to listen to someone younger then herself lecture her on the art of personal privacy, but she didn't have much of a choice. Hana was the only one who could cook, and Lena hadn't eaten all day. She swung her legs lightly from her perch on the bar stool at the kitchen island. "You aren't, like, getting off on this are you?"

"No!" Lena said too quickly. Her flushed cheeks betrayed her. "Ok, maybe a little but, Hana listen-"

"N.O. Lena. We're not talking about that!" Lena flinched backwards as she whipped the spoon hard enough that some of the simmering sauce landed on the island between them. "You need, like, a safe outlet or something." She repeated for the eighth time that week. The older girl simply fumbled her fingertips, so Hana groaned while digging through her pockets before tossing a folded piece of paper on the island. "That's the website for a BDSM social network. You can use it to help you through this 'phassssssse' as you call it. It's supposed to be safe but promise me you won't, like, go giving out our address or something stupid like that. I like living in California."

Lena studied the note for a moment. Her roommate's tone was certainly annoyed, but Lena had learned that this was the way she showed her concern. It was a foreign feeling to have anyone support her oddities. As a child, Lena has always been an 'odd duck,' as her parents put it. When playing cops and robbers, she always volunteered to be the robber. She enjoyed the thrill of being hunted down by her peers, the anticipation of them discovering her hiding spot and, most of all, tying her down once they finally captured her. She never really played on those fantasies too much. Her adolescent years had been awkward enough once her friends and family found out that she was only interested in women, so she made the decision not to add any more fuel to the fire. Once she was finally out of the house and in the real world, she decided to finally indulge in her long-suppressed fantasies. The only problem was that she knew very little about the world of BDSM. Her knowledge could probably be compared to a bucket of water in the English Channel. Her personal experience could possibly fill in an eyedropper. The world had become so much bigger once she moved out of her parent's house, but finding someone she trusted to indulge her fantasies made her feel as isolated as she was back when she had first come out of the closet. The stereotypes of her curiosities had ended one relationship before it started, and another ex-girlfriend thought it was a joke that she decided to make every time they were out in public. No one had really tried to understand her beyond the stigmas of a lesbian who wanted to be tied down and toyed with, at least not until the day she found a small adult store hidden downtown. The owner of a sex supply store had been the closest thing she could call a mentor. Despite her shaved head and heavy makeup, she had a warm glow to her eyes as she told Lena how it wasn't about finding someone willing to hurt you. The entire purpose of BDSM is for two people to find a deeper connection by trusting one another to fulfill their innermost fantasies. She gave Lena a spark of hope…and a good deal on fuzzy handcuffs once she bought a pair of remote controlled panties.

Despite her speeches on privacy and safety, Hana had never attempted to suppress her desires. Neither one of them were going to win 'Roommate of the Year' anytime soon. Hana lived on sugar and could become very vocal while streaming into the early hours of the morning. Lena had a hyperactive personality and tended to be a klutz about the little things, like plugging in her headphones before watching porn. Lena smiled warmly at the small offering of encouragement she had been given. Until the wheels in her brain began to turn. "Wait a tick. Hana, how'd you find this?"

The gamer turned back to the stove. "You know, things happen. You hear about all sorts of weird things on the web."

"Hana! You were complaining about me on your stream again, weren't you?"

She scoffed. "You're being, like, paranoid, Lena. It's not an attractive feature for you." The older girl took out her phone. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking your channel from last night."

"Okaaay, fine, you caught me."

"Hana! Whyyyyyyyyyyy?"

Hana moved to drain the boiling water from the pot. "Someone in the chat brought up the subject so I kinda went with it. It's no big deal, really. I got that from one of my friends and I checked it out. It's totally legit." Lena slammed her head on the table from embarrassment. "You're, like, tots welcome. Now move your face, it's time to eat."

Lena sat in front of her laptop. She frowned as she registered her new account on Fetish World. Once she admitted to Hana that she would actually consider the webpage, she received yet another talk on how to properly handle herself on this type of social network. First, she had to create a new e-mail with a fake name on a mail service she normally didn't use. Then she had to think of a way to alter her appearance so that she wouldn't be recognized if she put pictures up. Finally, she was able to set up her profile in Fetish World after making sure she used her new email and that all her fake information matched up with both sites. It was a pain in the ass to say the least. The energetic girl felt exhausted, filling out half a page of notebook paper with her new identity so she wouldn't forget anything. She may be living in America now, but had her alias flying under her natural British colors just to be safe. She had promised Hana that she would never use the social network to actually meet anyone, but it never hurt to be extra cautious. Her username, Tracer44, was a twenty-two-year-old University graduate living and working nights (so she wouldn't have to convert her persona's time zones as much) near London. Her hobbies included hiking, aviation, pinup art and stargazing. She was an amateur sub who was interested in learning more about all forms of BDSM and looking for a Dom or Mistress one day. Lena let out a sigh. It was a lot of work just to get this far. She had almost quit halfway through from the frustration of it all. Hana had lent her a short, blue haired wig from her cosplay collection and Lena added her pair of orange aviator goggles that blocked out her eyes. She put on a tight yellow jumpsuit she wore once as part of a Halloween costume and a fighter jacket she only wore for special occasions. It was her "power jacket" that gave her self-confidence a boost when she was feeling down or wanted to look tough. She ruffled the beautifully combed wig to slightly match her normally spiked hair, praying her roommate wouldn't mind so long as she fixed it later. The young woman took a moment o admire herself in her full-length mirror. She looked hot. Especially her ass, which she felt was a little too big for her but looked fantastic in spandex. What especially mattered was that she was unrecognizable from her usual self. She imitated a few of her favorite pinup shots before taking a few shots with her webcam to add to her sparse profile. The twenty-six-year-old could barely recognize the girl digitized in front of her. A giggle escaped her lips. She felt like a secret agent infiltrating the mysterious world of pain and pleasure. It was like an entirely different person had taken over her lustful desires and was ready to take the blunt of them while she watched safely from the sidelines. The urge to start browsing the den of desire was halted when she caught a glimpse of the clock. It was nearly midnight. An unexpected yawn burst from her lips. She decided to leave a brief post advertising herself under the 'Searching for an Online Top' forum before turning off the lights and jumping into bed. The young woman decided to sleep in the nude because her body felt like it was boiling. The cool sheets quenched her hot skin, but the warmth in her lower body continued to rise as she fantasized about the possibilities of tomorrow.