Mag-log inChapter 5 - The Man In Charge I woke up before him. I got up and went into the bathroom and showered with the door closed. When I came out with a towel around me he was awake. He was sitting up against the headboard with the sheet pooled in his lap and his eyes on me, and he watched me cross the room and pick my dress up off the floor. "I need to go," I said. "I need to see my brother." He looked at me for a second. "Come here," he said. I stopped with the dress in my hand. "I said I need to…" I said come here.” Something in his voice had changed from last night. It was the corridor voice again, low and flat and decided, and it made the back of my neck prickle the way it had when he'd first said my name. I stood there for a second with the towel around me and my heart starting to go, and then I walked over to the bed. He reached out and took the dress out of my hand and dropped it on the floor. "Drop the towel," he said. I looked at him. "Last night yo
Chapter 3 - Remedy to LonelinessI drove home with the radio off and the windows cracked and the cold air on my face, and I didn't think about what I'd just agreed to. I made a point of not thinking about it. I got home a little after nine and parked and sat in the car with my hands on the wheel for a few minutes like I always did.The apartment was dark except for the kitchen light. Mark was on the couch with his laptop on his knees and his phone face-down on the armrest beside him, and he looked up when I came in and said, "Hey," and I said, "Hey," and that was the whole conversation.I went into the bedroom and stood in front of the mirror for a minute and looked at myself. Twenty-three, still pretty, dark hair, dark eyes, a body I took care of because it was the one thing in my life I still had control over. I looked at myself for a long time and then I took my clothes off and put on the black slip I'd bought a year ago and never worn, the one still folded in the back of the dra
Chapter 2 - LonelinessI told him about the dinner parties where we sat next to each other and talked to other people all night, and the way we'd started saying “I” instead of “we” without noticing. Tommy listened.He didn't interrupt and he didn't try to fix it. He just sat there with his cuffed hands on the table and his hollow eyes on mine, and he nodded sometimes, and once he said, "That sounds so lonely, Sarah," and I had to stop for a second because nobody had said that to me in a long time."It is," I said. "It's so lonely. I don't think I've been touched by another person in months. Not really. Not like it means anything. I get up, I go to work, I come home, I sit on the couch and I watch something I don't remember and I go to bed and I lie there and I think, this is it, this is the rest of my life, this is the whole thing. And then I get up and do it again. And the worst part is I know it's not even a bad life. I know people have it so much worse. I know you'd trade places
Chapter 1 - The prison guard and The inmates sisterThe drive to the prison took an hour and forty minutes, and I made it in an hour and twenty.I always left too early. I always told myself I'd take my time, stop for coffee, listen to a podcast, and then I'd get on the highway and my foot would get heavy and I'd spend the whole drive gripping the wheel and rehearsing what I was going to say. The same things, mostly. “I'm okay. Work is fine. Mom's fine. Don't worry about me.” The same lies, wheeled out every two weeks.The prison sat at the end of a long flat road with nothing around it but fields and a chain-link fence that went on forever. I parked in the visitor lot and sat in the car for a minute with the engine off and my hands still on the wheel, and then I got out and walked to the gate with my purse over my shoulder and my heart going harder than it should have been.The intake building was all fluorescent light and gray linoleum and the smell of industrial cleaner. I put my
Chapter 5 - The Toys I came in the next week and the counter looked like a display case. There were four of them lined up on a clean white towel… four different shapes, four different sizes, all of them gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The smallest was about the size of my thumb. The largest was bigger than Brian's cock and I felt my stomach drop when I looked at it. "New phase of the therapy," he said. He was already in his shirtsleeves with the cuffs rolled up. "We've done the manual work and the dilators. Now we work on range of motion under different conditions." "Different conditions?" "Different textures. Different angles. Different levels of stimulation." He picked up the smallest one and turned it over in his hand. It was smooth and pale pink and shaped like a tapered egg with a flared base. "This one is a training plug. It goes in and stays in. The idea is to get your pelvic floor used to holding something in place while you move." "While I move?" "While y
Chapter 4 -Sex as Therapy "Are you okay?" he asked. "Yes." "Tell me what you feel." "Good, and full. Really full." I shifted my hips a little. "It's… it's pressing on something." "Good. That means it's working." He left it in and watched my face. "I'm going to move it now. Slow." He worked the dilator in and out of me with a slow steady rhythm, twisting it gently on every stroke, and I lay there with my knees open and my hands on my own thighs and let him stretch me. The wet sound of it filled the room. I could feel myself getting wetter around it, could feel the slickness running down between my ass cheeks and onto the sheet. "Ahh…" "Good?" "Yes… yes, please continue." He worked it faster. The angle changed and the curved tip of it started hitting something inside me that made my toes curl and my hips lift off the table. "Oh god… right there…" "Right there?" "Fuck yes… yes, don't stop…" He fucked me with the dilator the way he'd fucked me with his coc







