Chapter 3 EPISODE 3

Jade

It's a long night. Most of it I toss and turn. The hours are filled with dreams about whips and chains, as well as men in shadowy darkness yelling at me to stop running.

I get out of bed, wipe the sleep from my eyes, and head to the bathroom. I'm sick of staring at the same walls every day, and my apartment is tiny. The summer is almost here, and I want to take a vacation, travel abroad for a few months, and experience new things.

The small water closet is filled with steam due to the hot water. The hot water hits my body, causing it to jerk as I steal into the standup shower. "Aw!" I lower the heat and adjust the water's temperature so that it is more comfortable for my skin.

My mind is filled with flashbacks to the nightmares that tormented me. I was different in them. I wasn't scared, but I also didn't let the men's deep, husky voices captivate me.

The plum shampoo helps me wake up and smells amazing. I should be fine after taking a shot of something that contains caffeine. I have nothing better to do this weekend than study for my finals. I'll be free after another week of classes.

I'm not the type of person who gets anxious about finals. I pay attention in class and genuinely care about the material, so I know my stuff. That's always beneficial.

I step outside, turn off the water, and remove my towel. I wrap the towel around my hair like a turban, put on a fluffy pink robe, and head back to my bedroom. For my day of studying and relaxing, a pair of sweatpants will suffice.

I walk out to the kitchen to make coffee and put a bagel in the toaster after getting dressed. I see my laptop, which I left on the kitchen counter last night, as I take the cream cheese out of the refrigerator.

I promised myself before I went to bed that I would not bother looking for someone to respond to my BDSM inquiries. I came to the conclusion that no one would waste his time with me.

My insatiable curiosity has been rekindled by the dreams, and I'm drawn to the silver laptop. I turn it on and open it. When it comes to life, it whirrs and buzzes.

When the toaster pops up my bagel, I take my focus off the device and start preparing my small breakfast, including pouring a cup of coffee. I take my first bite while seated at the table and glance at my laptop once more.

"What the devil?" I pick it up, set it down on the tabletop, and type in the search engine I prefer to use for my research.

Entering a straightforward "BDSM society," I relax and allow the engine to find a book for me to read as I consume half of my bagel and drink a strong cup of black coffee. I tap the first site in the directory that appears on the screen. At the top of the page is a list. It is clear from the title that they are toys. The spreader bar is the first item. The image appears harmless enough. However, according to the description, the bar is used to maintain the submissive spread open and can be made of wood or metal. It can be worn on the ankles or wrists, and it can even be suspended from the ceiling.

"Oh, my!"

How could anyone voluntarily be placed in that situation?

Well, whatever. Medical restraints are the next topic. A person is held to the bed by a set of four tiny leather belts. I must ask myself: why must one be confined to the bed if everything is so wonderful?

It's a monoglove that I see next. The poor girl is wearing something that looks like a leather glove and has her arms behind her back. She can't move her arms at all. Why, I must ask myself again.

Not only does it appear tight and uncomfortable, but it also seems absurd to me. Is it necessary for the Dom to keep his sub's hands away from him?

Going on, I see that a ring gag, a penis gag, and a muzzle gag all appear to be a little awkward. If the penis gag were strapped into my mouth, I'm left wondering if I would truly choke. Without a doubt, I believe I would!

The next gadget has a medieval appearance. It is used to grasp the nose and pull it back, opening the mouth and pulling the head back. I'm not sure why it would be regarded as a sexual device, but it's called a nose hook. It appears to be a tool used to persuade a child to take medication when they argue about it.

"Oh, I see now!" The thought of having a man's cock inserted into my mouth while forcing me to open it makes my cheeks flush.

However, I wouldn't rely on the object to prevent my submissive from clamping down on my dick even if I were a man. And why is she there in the first place if she must be made to accept it?

I simply can't stop asking questions!

The next item on the list is plastic wrap, which I see is used to wrap the sub like a mummy. How cheap that is, and how strange that anyone would have considered that. "Honey, could you get the plastic wrap from the kitchen?" is what I can hear the odd couple saying now. In order to get what I want from you tonight, I believe I'll wrap it around you.

And without a single thought in her blank mind, the foolish woman would dash off to retrieve the object. No, I simply don't understand!

The next crazy item on this list is a device known as a posture collar. It's comparable to the white collars worn by people with neck injuries. It might be employed to help protect the neck from animal-style beatings. The woman wearing it appears just as uneasy as anyone else I've seen who had to wear one.

I now have more questions than I did before, and my curiosity is hammering away at my brain to find the answers it needs. However, I shut down my laptop and make an effort to concentrate on my final exam preparation.

The wooden chair I'm sitting in has a stiff back and isn't at all comfortable. I close my eyes, visualize myself strapped to the chair with leather medical restraints, and all study goes out the window. I sit up straight when a wide posture collar is fastened around my neck. My arms are pinned behind my back by a monoglove, and my legs are held open by a spreader bar. The fantasy itself is awkward and restrictive. When I consider allowing someone to do such things to me, I laugh and open my eyes.

Furthermore, the whips and chains are far more terrible than those items. My thoughts are back where they were for a few months: brutality, bondage, and why anyone would let that happen to them. What kind of animals would want to harm someone like that?

Women are prone to falling in love with their tormentors in romance novels. Why?

I believe I would kill a man in his sleep and not feel guilty about it if he did even half of the things I've read about him. It is unthinkable for me to fall in love with someone so vicious.

I would swear to kill the motherfucker at the first sting of the whip. Of course I would. I would threaten Dom's life while he tortured me, so he would have to use a muzzle or gag on me. Furthermore, he would be the one fleeing in fear when he finally had to release me. I am sure of that.

As the dominator, I might be more appropriate. However, I could never bring myself to strike someone. I detest hurting people's sentiments. Physically harming someone is something I could never do or support.

Therefore, how can I engage with someone who engages in these behaviors without passing judgment on them?

What will I do if I ask a question like, "How does it feel to hit a woman?" and receive an honest response?

I would hate a man if he admitted to me that he enjoys hitting women. I wouldn't tolerate a man who bound a woman, then struck her and sexually assaulted her.

What on earth am I doing, then? Why am I considering attempting to speak with someone I believe to be evil? Is there something seriously wrong with me? And how would my family feel about me even considering this?

I sit back and try to make sense of what I'm thinking. I don't have to agree with anything in order to gather information, just like a reporter. I can get the answers I need, ask questions, and then get over the monster.

It's not like I'm going to approach a Dom and ask him to show me what goes on in their gloomy world. Never would I do that!

I reach over to the laptop and open it. As I enter "BDSM Clubs" into the search engine, it seems as though my will has taken over. When I see the first link to a club with a real website, my fingers twitch. I click on it and it says "The Dungeon of Decorum."

I look at the message board on the page that appears and type in, "Is there anyone in this club who'd like to help me learn more about the real world of BDSM?"

Let's see who wants to reply now.