Jaded pt 2

Part 2.

“Shelly please!” Jayne protested, but it was a half hearted protest, as she awkwardly took the first few steps from the changing room through the door to the Club, tottering on her unfamiliar high heels, her simple black rubber dress folded down to show her breasts with the nipple camps and chains sweeping up to her collar and unsighted in her blindfold, she sensed rather than saw the door way, felt the change from concrete to boarded floor and stopped obediently as Shelly yanked on her leash.

“Turn left and down the stairs,” Shelly ordered, “Be careful,”

There were voices, louder now, getting louder all the time, Jayne had no idea that she was descending into a replica of an ancient dungeon, or that she came into view feet first or that half dozen men were drinking bottled beer or coke from the improvised bar at the other end of the room, away from the curved brick vaulting of the dungeon area.

Shelly made sure Jayne was all the way to the bottom of the stairs and turned her to the right to face the bar before she made an announcement, “My Lords Ladies and Gentlemen, May I present your ‘Whore de Jour,’ Plane Jane, Nine ninety nine a fuck Gentlemen.”

“What about you Shell!” someone shouted,

“Call it a hundred Stan,” Shelly replied, “Two hundred seeing as it’s you.”

“Oh god please no Shelly,” Jayne stammered, her voice quailing but even as she spoke she knew her juices were churning as never before.

“What about you John?” Shelly asked.

“Nine ninety nine, really?” Jayne heard the pleasant mid atlantic accent of an anonymous businessman enquire, “Really?”

“Sort of loss leader, she needs the practice.” Shelly explained.

“Oh she’s sweet, she’s blushing Shelly,” John said as he approached, Jayne had no idea John was dressed in a simple pair of shorts as required by the dress code for straight guys, shorts for straight guys,raher than the swimming trunks or shorts displaying the bum cheeks for gays, while it was accepted all the girls were bi.

Jayne stood still through the banter, it didn’t seem real, it was all surreal and she convinced herself that they were just playing a trick on her, even as Shelly gave John change from a twenty and handed him a condom and Jayne’s leash she still thought it was a trick.

But when John whispered, “What a pretty little thing, such pretty ears,” he said as he kissed her ear, “Such a pretty neck,” he kissed her neck, “Such pretty titties,” he said rhyming the two words before he kissed the end of her erect left nipple just beyond the clamp making her gasp with pleasure, “And why is your sweet little cunt all hidden.” he asked, “Is it because it’s a nasty dirty fuck hole, is that why you’re so cheap!”

“Noo” Jayne protested, but John had already grasped her rubber tube dress and was pulling it down, “Please, don’t,” Jayne pleaded.

“Oh but its a beautiful little pussy, all waxed oh it’s sweet,” John said perhaps sarcastically, but he had to admit it was beautifully proportioned, and he felt the reassuring surge of blood to his loins as his penis began to strain the front of his shorts like a tent pole.

“I think it’s time John,” Shelly said, “Cubicle or whipping rail?”

John looked around, there was hardly anyone in. It was too early for a crowd, there were two private cubicles with doors and locks and two semi private without doors but no one was using the whipping rail, right in the middle of the vaulted dungeon section well almost the middle it was slightly to one side of where the stairs came down from the shop, a rail adjustable in height which girls, or boys could bend over to be whipped, or entered from behind.

“Rail, I think.” John chose instantly, “Come on Plane Jane.”

“It’s Jayne with a wye,” Jayne said automatically.

“John with an h,” John replied equally automatically as he tugged and guided Jayne to the rail.
John turned her around, made her face the wall and then he made her bend.

Shelly helped pull the pins and helped John to adjust the whipping rail in its A frames until the height was perfect and then he gently made Jayne bend right over the rail, she thoughtb she might fall forward but then reassuringly she felt John move up behind her, she sensed him, sensed his warmth, sensed his smart business suit where he was bare legged, sensed his rugged masculinity, and sensed his utter contempt for her.

Jayne almost cried out, but in her heart she knew this was what she needed sheer unadulterated raw sex, with a stranger she need never see again, need never see at all.

John’s fingers explored her first, “For heavens sake she’s on fire Shell, what have you been doing?” he asked.

“Stop talking and start doing John,” Shelly retorted and next Jayne thrilled to the feel of Johns beautifully streamlined manhood sliding smoothly into her, she gasped in excitement and relief as she had a sudden last minute fear that he might spear her bum instead, and then the familiar buzzing, pulsing, heart throbbing, pounding ecstasy as John began to ride her.

Suddenly Shelly whipped off Jaynes blindfold and there upside down between her own glossy boots and between Johns bare and hairy legs she could see the club patrons watching her, a barman, an ageing docker or manual worker, an effeminate peroxide blonde bottle tanned man in lederhosen, a thirty something woman dressed completely in black leather, from her long black leather coat, to her boots and there were more people coming down the spiral staircase at the other end of the room, Jane cringed with embarrassment squeezing John and then quite suddenly Shelly put her blindfold back on again and her world was just her and John once more.

Jayne was drifting in a balloon over Galway bay, dancing on clouds, riding a dolphin, drifting through space, lost in an intense world of John’s throbbing pistoning cock and the tricks her mind was playing.

“Goo,” Jayne manage to say, “So goo,” like a baby saying “Good,” and then came the throbbing and the rush and frustration as he started to jerk yet the the condom contained his juices, the juices she needed inside her, that same rush of semen she craved to flood her, to wash away her need, to cleanse her soul and scour away the hurt, but the condom meant it never came, such promise such excitement such anticlimax.

Jane quietly whispered her safe word, a string of obscenities which could not be mistaken.

“John,” Shelly said quietly, “Safe word.”

“Oh christ, what’s wrong Jayne with a Y?” he asked, “I’m sorry, it was good for me, was I too rough, what was wrong?”

“Safe word John, no questions, no arguing, you know the rules.” Shelly insisted, and she helped Jayne to stand.

There was a ripple of polite applause and then Shelly guided Jayne back to the stairs and back up to the changing room, “Turn left and up the stairs,” she whispered and “It’s all right Jayne, don’t worry,” Shelly added and she guided Jayne into the changing room again and shut and locked the door to the club before she turned and went to remove Jayne’s blindfold.

Shelly paused, she wondered what she would find there, tears, hatred, fear perhaps, but when finally she peeled the blindfold away there was only sorrow and not tears in Jayne’s brown eyes as she blinked in the sudden bright light.

Shelly wondered what to say as stepped across to an anonymous grey locker, “There’s a sink and mirror behind this locker door,” she explained, “And a shower room if you pull that locker out like this.” She added as she tugged and another anonymous double locker swung forward easily revealing the shower room beyond.

Jayne paused as she saw Shelly looking at her, saw Shelly had her black latex dress over her arm, “I don’t have all day?” Shelly insisted, “Cuffs?”

“Oh, ah yes,” Jayne remembered, she placed the edge of the left cuff’s velcro strap against a locker and with a ripping tearing noise the cuff came open.