And it is here I will take up again briefly:
I remembered writing Jane a nettle dare; even the odd detail from it. I knew I didn't have the e.mails stored in the same way anymore, there had been so many girls before and after Jane, with different tastes that in the end the conversations and pictures had been moved in to files, then on to drives and then more drives I would have to look for them, if they even existed anymore so it wasn't until Jane included it in her e.mail that I was able to take in the full details of how far we had gone.
Jane again:
After the excitement of the airport and the journey home plus the unexpected offer, I was already highly aroused, so when I opened the nettle dare e.mail again after so many years and quickly scanned through it. I knew if I was to be a slut for you, to let you use me for pain then I was going to do it. It would be my statement of intent to you.
I spent the rest of the day naked, rubbing my pussy and ass against anything and everything I could. I put pegs on my nipples and then more on my breasts. I opened all the curtains and at the back, I opened the patio doors too, so I could pull a sun lounger into the doorway -- when I felt like it I would lie there with my hand constantly teasing my clit -- but never cum -- so many ruined orgasms -- I was exhausted but insatiable.
I took a couple of white candles and covered my pussy and ass in wax and then roughly pulled the wax off so any hair would be removed too -- I wanted to be as perfectly bald and pink for you and the dare as I could.
When the phone rang in the early evening from an overseas number, he asked how my day was going and I said it was okay, I was thinking of watching a movie but he seemed as distracted as I was. I asked about his flight and told me he it had been okay, he was missing me, so I told him I was missing him too and then he was gone. I hung up slowly in case I was wrong and the connection had dropped and he hadn't hung, I wanted to be certain. And then relief coursed through me. I swiveled my body around in the chair -- put my feet up on the back -- spread my legs -- smacked my pussy as hard as I could twenty times - not punishment for being a bad girl -- I smacked with the joy that comes of potentially being your slut again - free to play for you with no worries.
It had been a while since I had read the dare carefully; so I recited the initial instructions a few times and then for fun I read the other e-mails we had exchanged. Some that were related to the nettle dare - and a few that weren't, so rude and disgusting, no wonder I like to smack and destroy my pussy so much - How you persuaded me to do fire and ice, the heels to wear and adjusting the books under my ass so my pussy wouldn't burn until I could do it without the books. It all became so fresh in my mind that it seemed the last few years had never been.
There is something else too about the nettle dare: As I read through the e-mails, it seems that initially in our discussions we were discussing writing a play or a novel exciting, but, always fiction. The story or play grew in details as I contributed more background information. Exchanging bits of potential dialogue until there is a change in the dialogue:
Would I do this? Would I be prepared to take it on? Things were different back then, I wasn't sure as others began to ruin my fun but today -- my dripping pussy is so wet, my nipples ache with constant attention -- today is different, today in my hyper sexually frustrated mood, turning back now is not an option but - being sexually frustrated or even proving myself to you wasn't going to be enough - I would have to do something I had never done, something you had encouraged in me but I had refused and yet I had always secretly desired to try and now it was time.
I would be the actress; playing the role of the woman who needs her own self inflicted sexual pain to get through her life - the role I have waited years for. I stood and walked around having imaginary conversations as producers discussed my body - would my tits be big enough, was I willing to do anything to get the role?
Even as I asked myself these imagined questions, I answered with demonstrations of self abuse - smacking my tits red to make them look bigger -- clamping my nipples with a trouser hanger -- taking a hammer handle in my ass - a golf club in my pussy -- of course I was ready!
For a moment reality kicked in and I looked around me at the items I had used through the day to abuse and pleasure myself, left out openly for anyone -- who might see the connection between the objects - to see what a slut I was become again.
It was now I realised; not only was I about to do this for real! - This was always about me, I had always been the subject of the play! - You had always intended that I would be required to act the part! - Of course we could never be certain how the story would play out or what the ending would be - until I suffered for or maybe enjoyed, my prominent public role.
And now there was something else driving me on; I was also intrigued to learn more about myself.
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Both of us:
J: I shower dried myself and walked over to my laptop and sat down in the hard back chair specified by the writer. I was naked 'as the subject had been told to be naked when she read her instructions' and eager to please I obeyed without thought. As the words began to enter my brain I reached up one hand and caressed my breasts.
Me: You will provide pictures of before, during and after. Include at least one of you naked before starting out, as usual your pussy will be hidden but I need to be able to see you are naked. There will also be one in your bikini and one in your dress.
J: I have no idea when I started to spank my nipples, I became aware that I was and that perhaps my pussy should be getting attention too.