Akio's story

I knew Jane wanted to ask me something even before she opened her mouth. The air around her felt charged, like static before a storm, and her wild black curls seemed even more unruly than usual, bouncing with a nervous energy.

Something had shifted in her this past week.

Her new job had changed her.

When she first showed me the clit ring, God, I nearly pissed myself laughing. In all the years we’d lived together I hadn’t so much as seen one of her nipples, and suddenly she’s standing in our flat with her skirt hiked up, cunt freshly shaven, a little gold loop glinting against her hood like she’d been possessed by some slutty alter ego.

Jane. My prim, uptight Jane.

And then came the comicon.

When she told me she was going, I thought it was a joke. I’d teased her about dressing as Cheetara just to see her squirm, never in a million years thinking she’d actually do it. But then she said she’d bought a ticket. She even agreed to let me paint her.

So I pushed.

I bought the tiniest thong I could get away with, basically dental floss,and stripped her down in my living room. When I started painting her tits, I nearly dropped the brush. They were… perfect. Perky and heavy at the same time, the kind of tits she had no right hiding under those baggy sweaters. And when my brush flicked across her nipples, they went so hard so fast I thought she’d smack me.

But she didn’t. She just took it.

And at the con? Holy fuck. Watching her melt under every stare, every hand, letting strangers treat her like a prop, it was like she wasn’t even Jane anymore. She was something else. A plaything. And she loved it.

But today… today felt different.

When she told me about this “job opportunity,” about the money, her eyes lit up in this way I’d never seen before. Like she was excited but also terrified of what that meant. I didn’t even need the money, uni kept me busy enough, but the way she looked at me when she asked… I couldn’t say no.

There was something else, too. The way she’d been glancing at me lately. Not just looking. Checking me out. Like she was cataloguing me. And not in a roommate way.

I should’ve called her out. But I didn’t.

The next day we went to her company.

It was… weird. No real explanations. Just a sterile room and instructions to strip.

Three men in white coats circled me like I was livestock. Height, five foot. Build, slim. Breasts, below average.

I cut in before they could finish. “Yeah, but my nipples are really sensitive.”

That made them twitch. One of them actually coughed into his clipboard. I smirked.

They moved lower. Body hair, standard. Vagina—

“Tight as fuck,” I interrupted, leaning back on the exam table, legs spread wide like I was daring them to look closer. That one turned them red. I nearly laughed out loud.

Then the nurse came in. Older, MILF-y, but something was off in her face. Like she’d taken a hit of something before coming in, pupils blown, smile too wide. She carried a little steel tray, and I knew immediately what was coming.

The ring.

I leaned back, propped my hands behind me, and opened my legs as wide as they would go. If they wanted a show, I’d give them one. I know what I’ve got down there. I could see the way their eyes dropped, how their professionalism cracked as they stared at my neat little tuft of black hair and my bare lips.

For a second, I almost stuck my tongue out, went full anime doe-eyed slut, but I stopped myself. That would’ve been too much.

The nurse slid the ring into place, deft, clinical. No pain. Not even a pinch. Just a strange new weight pressing against my clit, like a secret kiss.

And then it was done. No instructions. No warnings.

I dressed, tied my shoes, and one of the men said blandly, “That’s all for today.”

I left expecting nothing. But when I got home and threw my bag down, my phone buzzed.

One thousand pounds. Deposited directly into my account.

I never gave them my bank details.