IR - Jessica Rose aka Shauna Ryan (2022)

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A pal gave me his smartphone number weeks ago. "Call him. Just call him," she said. I’d stopped dating. It wasn’t the guys. Well, maybe a little. "Look, I’m over ‘relationships’ for the moment. I just want to be by myself for awhile. That’s all." My pal shrugged. "Call him," she said again. I was the youngest of trio girls. Growing up, I’d observed my and their boy friends. Awkward smooches in the barn. Forearms groping, shoved away, more groping. I had dreams, murky pics in my head. And I’d groped with myself some nights, unsatisfied, my fumbling increasing my longing. Like shafts were doing now. Oh, I’d had lots of shafts the last few years, big ones, small ones. shafts that were hair-trigger, and shafts that had to be coaxed. shafts that enjoyed your basic fuck, and shafts that wished anything but your basic fuck. And I’d lie in sofa afterward with every one of those shafts (never guys, or men, just cocks), damp, salty, at times fumbling in the dark after they started snoring, and I wished more, less, nothing, everything. I wished something I couldn’t admit to myself. I wished and wanted, but I was afraid. "Call him," my pal said. It was the thought of lying in the dark that stopped me from calling, and the aroma of supposed love, and the emptiness, the loneliness, the unhappiness that was always worse after it was over. I was fumbling in the dark. When I finally made the call, he told me to come alone and to wear a mini-skirt and blouse. No underwear. My Forearms shook. I clean-shaven everything that night. Everything but my head. I shoved a tabouret in front of the mirror and sat in it, naked. I pawed myself, my gams spread and feet resting against the wall on either side of the mirror. I studied each fold of my pussy and cunt, then pawed my fingers to my mouth, degustating myself. And I fumbled my breasts, watching, toying with my nips until they hardened. I slipped my fingers in and out of myself, the fingers of one mitt in my asshole, the fingers of the other in my cunt. And all the while, I watched. I was a stranger to myself. I was nobody I’d ever encountered before. The first thing he did that night was to bind me leaned over a cage. Some other lady was locked inwards of it. "You think I’m going to fuck you?" he said, bending close, but not fumbling me. "Only if you’re lucky." And he cocked his head, his eyes sad, as though he pitied me. "Don’t worry." He grinned then, but it made me shiver. "I’m only going to hurt you a little." I wished to say something sexy. I wished to make him want me. I wished to do all the things I’d learned thru the years, the way a lady takes control. But I couldn’t. I was falling. I was out of control. I was violating into pieces. He grinned because he knew everything the moment he saw me. He’d observed my eyes stroll once he’d unlocked the door to his "special room" and led me inside. The walls were glazed with straps, ropes, chain, shackles. My assets was on fire. That night he cut my clothing off me. He fettered me to a iron bar. He locked a strenuous steel dog collar on my neck. Chain inbetween my legs, around my breasts. iron in my mouth, my ass. iron clips pinching my nipples. And later, vibro in my cunt. He spread me out spread-eagle, lying on my back. He wrapped leather around my neck and tightened. He cut off my air. He made me come over and over. After he was done with me and let me loose, I kneeled in front of him and smooched his boots. He put a thinner dog collar on my neck and locked it in place. "You’ll do everything I say. When I call, you’ll come immediately." I gazed at the floor. "Yes sir." "You’re mine now." I shivered, not from cold, but from something else, something new, an electricity. For the first time, I wasn’t fumbling in the dark anymore. "Yes sir."