Bend Over Jessica

Swings and roundabouts. That’s what life is all about really.

Sometimes I feel the urge to be treated tenderly, to be Jessica, put to bed by Uncle, turned over his knee for a gentle spanking and then tucked under the covers. Or with my Housemaster, who is punishing me more in sorrow than in anger for something I know I deserve and will take because I realise this. Or just to be put over someones knee and erotically spanked until I am relaxed and compliant.

Sometimes, I am the other way entirely. That’s when I want to be at the mercy of a villain, who will take an advantage and use it against me, when I owe someone money and he has come to collect in kind, when I am caught in something awful and need to do something awful to escape from it, when I am kidnapped from the street and taken for someone else’s pleasure.

That’s when I want to be forced. It’s when I want to be used. To be beaten, taken, had, hurt, whipped, tied, blindfolded, gagged. To be made to whimper, struggle, cry, scream and fight. To feel helpless, crushed, unwanted and useless.

To fear what is coming but at the same time to long for it.

To feel my heart race and see my hands tremble at the footstep on the stairs.

To know that deep down, I am a slut and that I like it like this. But at the same time, that I am a sentient being and I choose to have it like this.

This is when I’m on the edge.

And the hunger for this play is like the vampire craving blood, primeval, uncontrollable, unstoppable.

This is me. I am in need.

I’m on the edge.