Once, there had been a car accident. It wasn't bad enough to make the papers, but it did change Jill's life forever.
Jill worked for a firm on Wall Street, and had gotten a bonus at the end of the year. Instead of spending her check on a trip, she had instead decided to pay off her car that she had bought the year before.
She had taken the day off, and had paid the balance on her loan. To celebrate, she was going to a restaurant to meet with friends for lunch.
However, a drunk driver that broadsided her car interrupted her drive to the restaurant.
And changed her life forever…
"Come on Jill, you can do it!" said the therapist.
Jill sat in a wheelchair, staring at the two parallel bars in front of her. Her therapist, David, stood at her side.
"No, it hurts to walk," answered Jill.
"Jill, you've got to get up and walk. The cast is off your body, I've been exercising your muscles for days now. You can stand up."
"I'll be right here."
"It hurts. I hurt," cried Jill.
"Jill, you'll have to get used to pain from now on. Your injuries were severe, true. But you can have a normal life again. But you have to stand up first," advised David.
"You can't stay in the hospital forever, you know. I'll have to refer you to the psychotherapist so that you will get some counseling. Maybe that will make you stand up."
"I want you to exercise my muscles again, on the bed," said Jill.
"Will that make you walk?" asked David.
"Maybe tomorrow," answered Jill.
David wheeled Jill back to the bed, and lifted her onto it. Jill couldn't, or wouldn't, take any weight on her legs, which had been pinned in the car after the accident. The bones and flesh had healed. Her mind had not. She still remembered having to be cut out of the car and taken to the hospital.
Laying Jill down on the bed, David again exercised her legs. Pulling and pushing them forward to simulate normal movement and walking. Getting the atrophied muscles to move again. David had seen the X-rays, even talked to her doctor. There was no reason that Jill couldn't walk again, even if it was painful. Pain meant that the muscles were working again, that her body could take the strain imposed upon it.
David worked her legs wanting Jill to cry out, determined to do so until she begged him to stop. But she never did cry out, even though tears came to her eyes.
"Did I hurt you?" asked Dave.
"No," Jill answered as she was helped back into the wheelchair.
"I want you to walk tomorrow," said Dave, "unless you want to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair."
"I'll try," said Jill.
In the dayroom at the end of the ward, Jill sat in her wheelchair, watching life go by on the street in front of the hospital. Alone, she realized that something strange had happened. When David had been exercising her legs and had made them hurt, she found that she had actually liked the pain. And it had made her wet, too!
The next day, after Dave had pulled and pushed at her legs again, she stood in front of the bars again. With everyone watching, Jill slowly and painfully got to her feet. Dave stood on her right, and another therapist on her left. Putting the weight on both legs, her arms holding the bars, she stood up for the first time since the accident. Each baby step was painful, and it hurt, especially after the therapy that she had received. But Jill had stood up and was walking.
'Why?' Jill asked herself as she began to take one step after another 'Does the pain turn me on?"
After more therapy in the hospital, Jill was transferred to a therapy center. More weeks went by as she learned to walk again, taking one painful step after another. Then, she was finally ready to go home.
Jill had a first floor apartment, which made life simpler. The visiting nurse recommended that she pull up some carpets to make walking easier, and rearrange the furniture too.
A therapist would come in three times a week to make sure that Jill was healing and do her exercises. Jill had been given a set of exercises to do. Her brother visited, and gave her a car that he was about to sell, since her car had been totaled. So Jill was partially healed, at home, and mobile once again. And bored as hell.
One day, while seated in front of her home computer, Jill started cruising the newsgroups. It was then that she was directed to a bondage website, and found herself in a chatroom. Previously, she had used the PC for business only. But now, stuck in her apartment, it was a way to communicate with the outside world.
She typed in the name "payngrrl" in the ident field.
>> Tigerman: Hello payngrrl!
>> payngrrl: Hello
Jill sat in front of the screen, a soda at her side, not knowing just what to do. All her friends were at work, and reading and TV were a bore. So the chatroom seemed like a good way to pass the time.
>> slaveslut: New here, payngrrl?
>> payngrrl: Yes.
>> Private mssg from slaveslut: Since you're new here, I suggest you just follow along in the beginning. Don't give out any personal info. Okay, dear?
>> Private mssg to slaveslut: Thank you.
>> Private mssg from slaveslut: You're welcome.
>> Mastertom: Anyone want to do a scene?
>> slaveslut: We have someone new here. So let's do one for her benefit.
>> Tigerman: Great idea.
>> payngrrl: OK
Jill took a sip of her drink, and wondered just what the hell was going on. Here she was, communicating with people hundreds of miles away, and they want to do something over their computers? Wasn't this what she had read about somewhere?
>> Mastertom: Will you be my sub, slaveslut?
>> slaveslut: Yes, Master.
>> Private mssg to slaveslut: What's a sub?
>> Private mssg to payngrrl: submissive
>> Private mssg to slaveslut: Thanks
Jill felt like she was a stranger, participating in something that she didn't understand. But she hung on, fascinated. She had entered the website, passed though articles on being both Dominant and submissive, on bondage and toys, events, and had finally gone into the chatroom. Much more entertaining than soap operas!
>> Mastertom: You're naked, slaveslut. You're wearing bracelets on your wrists and ankles, and a collar around your neck. Your arms are bound behind your back, and I place a ballgag in your mouth and a blindfold over your eyes. We're in a bedroom.
>> slaveslut: Mmmmph!
>> Mastertom: Good you remembered the gag, slave.
Jill imagined in her mind the scene that the two were playing. She had looked at the bondage pictures on the site, and she had found them fascinating in a strange way. Now she saw two people, a Dom and a sub, acting out a scene. Jill reached under her jeans and panties, and found that she was wet between her legs.
>> Mastertom: I begin to caress, ever so gently, your breasts. Bound, you react to me, helpless. Your nipples rise, erect, under my ministrations. I pinch them, making you squeal from behind your gag.
>> slaveslut: Mmmmph!
>> Mastertom: I continue to caress your body, exploring your bound nakedness. Slowly, ever so slowly, I cup your sex, and part your lips, and my fingers enter your sex. You're already wet, and awaiting whatever comes next.
Jill sat, riveted to the screen. She felt like she was the bound girl being caressed!
>> Mastertom: I enter you, making you moan and writhe.
>> slaveslut: Mmmmph!
>> Mastertom: Before you climax, I remove my fingers, frustrating you. You fight your bondage.
>> Tigerman: Keep going!
>> slaveslut: Mmmmph!
>> Mastertom: I remove your blindfold & ballgag and you sit on the bed, blinking in the sudden light.
>> slaveslut: Thank you, Master.
>> Mastertom: Ready to be spanked?
>> slaveslut: Yes, sir!
Jill wished that she was the one to be spanked. She sat, transfixed in front of the screen.
>> Mastertom: I place you over my knee, your wrists still bound behind your back. I start to smack your behind, softly at first, harder later. Your bottom starts to turn a nice shade of red.
>> slaveslut: Mercy, Master!
>> Mastertom: I stop immediately, having called your safeword.
>> Private mssg to slaveslut: safeword?
>> Private mssg from slaveslut: Stops the action.
>> slaveslut: Thank you, Master.
>> Mastertom: You're welcome, slave.
Jill heard the doorbell start to ring. She looked at the taskbar on the PC, and saw it was time for the therapist to come. Damn!
>> payngrrl: Have to go, thank you. Will return.
>> Mastertom: Bye!
>> slaveslut: Bye now!
>> Tigerman: See you again soon!
Of all the times to have an appointment! Just when she had finally found something interesting to do, she had to get interrupted. Jill rose to her feet and leaned on her cane, and walked to the buzzer to let the therapist into the building. She added the site to her favorites folder, and decided to return later.
After a harsh session where the therapist pulled at her legs making her cry out, then forcing her to walk a great deal, even outside her apartment, Jill realized that she was being made ready to go back to work. When the woman was packing up her notes, Jill decided to ask a few questions.
"When can I go back to work?" asked Jill.
"Soon. You've had a great shock. But there's no reason why you shouldn't get out of the apartment. Go shopping or to the library, do something!" suggested the woman.
"Can I ask you something personal?" asked Jill, "woman to woman."
"Do people get sexually aroused from therapy. From the pain?"
"Yes. Pain and pleasure are linked. Some people get turned on when their brain produces chemicals called endorphins during both pleasure and pain. Some get addicted to painful activities after an accident and therapy. Just like those runners who do twenty miles a day."
During her session, Jill found that she had actually enjoyed it when her muscles were stretched, when her joints cracked, and she was forced to exert herself once again. She had wanted to cry out, but didn't.
Putting on her jacket, she wanted to see if she could rent a bondage tape from a nearby video store, like those she had seen on the website. In the store, she found 2, and rented them both. As she was leaving, she wondered just what kind of person she was turning into.
Later, she printed out a series of D/s support meetings from a calendar on the website, that were held at a restaurant in the next county. It would be quite a drive, but she resolved to do it.
Jill went back to work, walking with a cane. She asked to be transferred from Wall Street to one of the firm's suburban offices in New Jersey, and her request was granted. Her high-pressure days of working were over, and now she would work in the suburbs, where she had started.
But during her last week of work in Manhattan, she had gone to a fetish shop. She bought some magazines and books, was amazed to find it owned and staffed by women, and resolved to return.
Then she went to D/s meetings at the restaurant. She hung back, was pleasant, and actually enjoyed herself. All of the people there were in their 30s, middle class, and were rather nice.
By her third visit, Jill wondered if she should approach someone. How does one submit to another person?
It was then that she got the shock of her life. Seated at a table was David, her therapist from the hospital!
"Hello, Dave," she greeted him when his back was turned.
"Jill?" he asked.
He stood up and shook her hand, noticing the cane.
"How are you doing?" Dave asked.
"OK. After the therapy center, they sent me home. I found this on my computer," Jill answered.
"Have a seat," he said, "How are you doing?"
"I can walk, but I need a cane. I still hurt, a bit. I went back to work, and I got a job out here, not in Manhattan any more."
"And when you were stretching and bending me in the hospital, I got attracted to you. And excited by the pain," stated Jill.
"Is that what you're doing here?" Dave asked.
"Yes. I'm looking for someone. I know the language here. Are you a Dom or sub?" she asked directly.
"Dom," he answered quietly.
"Then you're just the one I'm looking for."
"Only if you trust me," said Dave.
"You know I already do," she answered.
They went back to his place, which was not far. He had a two bedroom apartment in a nearby building. In one room was his bed, bookcases, and personal items.
The other was his playroom. Jill looked at his collection of bondage toys, some familiar from the store in the city.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Strip, and choose your safeword," he ordered.
He helped her undress, and he donned a leather outfit that displayed his taut figure. She knew that she desired him.
Jill lay across his knees, and he soon began to spank her.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Each stroke on her behind landed in a different spot, each stung with each impact. But they felt good! Just as it did in therapy! Jill found herself getting aroused with each impact on her behind.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered.
"Yes, Sir!" he corrected her, landing a rather strong blow on her backside.
"Yes, sir!" she answered back.
After what must have been ten strokes, he stopped.
"Thank you," said Jill.
Dave sat her on a leather stool that was nearby, and began to stroke and caress her naked body. Jill responded by moaning to his sensual touch, and got ever closer to him.
The combination of his spanking and now his caresses of her nakedness were arousing Jill like she had never been before. His hands ranged on her body, tweaking her nipples and sex.
Her behind, warmed and hurting from the spanking, only made her feel good. She was pleased with herself.
Dave produced a riding crop, and displayed it to her.
"I would like to use this on you," he stated.
"Go ahead, sir," Jill answered.
Jill imagined that she was going to be tied to one of the devices in the room. Instead, her hands were locked behind her back, and a bar with cuffs was locked to her ankles. Seated on the stool, she was open and available for whatever would happen next.
Rather than strike her at first, David instead began to caress her with the tip of the crop. He gently inserted it inside the lips of her sex, then traced it around her venus mound. Moving upwards, he circled her breasts and flicked the tip on her erect nipples.
Then, he began a slow series of strokes that barely left a red mark behind. He struck at her breasts, belly, and the outside of her thighs. Each time, she moaned slightly.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked.
"No, sir," she answered.
Jill sat on the stool, absorbing all of the blows in silence. Individually, they didn't hurt. But slowly, over time, her skin heated up and she was even more aroused than before.
Just when it seemed that it might go one forever, he stopped, and presented the handle to Jill's lips.
"Kiss the crop," he ordered.
Jill kissed the crop as she had been told to. She realized why he had used the footstool. This way, she wouldn't have to be standing while he used her.
"Enough for one night," he told her, releasing her hands.
"Do you want to come here again?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered, "Please?"
"I think that can be arranged," he answered.