Jill the Mirror - Cover

Jill the Mirror

Copyright© 2016 by LughIldanach

Chapter 3: Dove and Howard

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 3: Dove and Howard - Ever met a lovely person who understood everyone but themselves? In the sequel to Jill's Journeys, Jill continues to search for her sexuality and identity, in a polyamorous household to which she gives much. Heterosexuality, lesbianism, and bisexuality surround her, but she still searches for her path while helping guide others. Dove and Sandra bring their own insights beyond the norm, as do the leaders of the family. There is much growth, much love, and much fun.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   True Story   Humor   Vignettes   Workplace   Mother   Daughter   DomSub   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory  

“Dove, as I told Howard, I can’t be close to him without being close to the people to whom he’s already close. That means you and Jill. Tell me, how did you two meet? You seem to communicate so well.

“Would you believe a chat room?”

“Sure.”

“The discussion was wandering. At one point, he mentioned that he could find a sex worker, if she liked the work, to be very charming. Not attractive, the usual word, but charming. I messaged him to elaborate.

“He was thoughtful, and was very clear that an exploited sex worker didn’t appeal to him. But if she was reasonably proud of what she did, he could celebrate that. As he put it, such a person didn’t send the mixed messages of so many women.

“Eventually, I gave him my phone number -- it was very expensive for me to call from Canada to the US. We’d get to talking after I was on the street, which was late his time. He didn’t leer, but seemed interested in my experience. If I did have a bad night, he was gentle and supportive. If good sex would help, he’d talk me through it, but wouldn’t make demands.

“If I had a hot evening, which often I did, we’d revel in it together. I began to tell him about things that I liked either completely or partially in my private life. For example, I really like anal. Sometimes, I did it commercially, with lots of care and restrictions.”

“I gather that something was different when you did it for pleasure?”

“Well, aside from not using condoms, I happen to like it to be a little painful to start. That just isn’t safe with someone with whom I didn’t have perfect, trusted, communications.


Later that day, Lucy called together Dove, Gigi, Tony and Marilyn, along with Sandra and me. Lucy is the senior partner of the law firm. She clearly is older than most of us, although she is reluctant to give a number. She’s quite attractive, with thick bronze hair, blue eyes, and usually a deep tan. Lucy is of medium, or perhaps a little taller, height, and lean and muscular--one gets the sense of a tennis pro. Her clothing varies with the need, from formal courtroom attire to happy slut. Her breasts are substantial and jutting.

“This is a small group, starting with the guardians of whom I’ll call our new generation. These kids have impressed me. While they’re mostly 16 or 17, I have little question that they are operating at a college level. First, does anyone have a problem with proposing to them that they take the GED test? Second, how about Advanced Placement, or, if I can cut a deal with local schools, cut a deal for portfolio placement and granting credit?

“I do have some pretty damn strong school contacts, including a junior college that would include trades and other than pure academics.

“That certainly could help Mike, in culinary arts and electronic engineering technology. I mention the latter because Art said that he’s interested in hardware.” Gigi, who is building our restaurant and internal catering service, formerly played semi-pro basketball. At 6’2”, she’s the Amazon of the group, with a long cascade of light red hair. In recent months, she’s been tanning, and bringing her body back to well-muscled although not overly so.

I only sought to clarify, if anyone would believe me. “So he likes it to be hard?” Had she thought about it, Lucy would not have put peanuts among the snacks, since they were promptly thrown at me.

“Tony, what about physical education?”

“Lucy, I’d like to set up a different group for that, and also not limit it to the adults. With this group, dance should be just as much a part as weights.

Dove’s eyes had a killer instinct. “Self-defense. Maybe krav maga, unless there’s interest in something like judo or tae kwon do, as athletics.

“I don’t think I’ve mentioned directly,” Sandra added, “but I think a lot of fencing as a meditation.”

“Not surprisingly, with all you told me about Musashi.”


“That brought us into a discussion of my interests in sexual masochism and in dom/sub. He is neither a sadist nor a dominant, but he adapted because I wanted it. There were limits to it. For example, he met some other people in the chat room, and then in person. Pia was more submissive, and used pain as a way to demonstrate her submission. I actually get off on mild pain. Although she definitely appealed to him, he couldn’t bring himself to give her the pain that she and her dom routinely did. When her dom left her with him, telling him to enjoy himself, he was just too upset to do much. She sucked him off, but the tension ruined their relationship.

“Interesting. I want to talk to you about dominance, and erotic pain. I do like fairly rough sex, although not all the time. For me, though, I think, like dance and martial arts, that’s a celebration of my still being alive.

“I’m less clear if D/s really appeals to me. I can, I think, be switchy some of the time, but not fully into the scene.”

Howard grinned. “I’ll bet, though, that you enjoy some of the fetish and costume part.”

“Sandra,” Dove also smiled, “I think you were a little surprised to see me move easily in very high heels. Yours aren’t exactly low. I know Howard is very much a heel fetishist, and I do see that after the two of you enjoyed each other, you’re still in heels and hose. So, do you have a fetish in that direction?”

“Yes, I think so. In fact, I’d like to learn more about actual fetish play in those areas. Gymnastics, I’m sure, helps your overall grace, but I wondered about the shoes.”


“Sandra, before I go on to dance, I have a question. When you say fetish, are you using it informally for something that turns people on sexually, or do you use it in the broader, anthropological sense? Howard and I have concluded that he and I use it in both senses.”

“Dove, I’m not familiar with that sense. Tell me more. It sounds interesting.”

“To an anthropologist, a fetish is an object charged with magical power. It need not be sexual at all -- it could be an idol, a wand, or some other thing that the believers take very seriously.

When the Alake or king of Abeokuta in West Africa dies, the principal men decapitate his body, and placing the head in a large earthen vessel deliver it to the new sovereign; it becomes his fetish and he is bound to pay it honors.

Sir James George Frazer, The Golden Bough

Howard continued, “Quite a number of sexual psychologists think of sexual attraction, or the more intense fetishism, derives from something that might have been a strong memory from puberty, or perhaps from some subsequent sexual experience. For example, when I was in puberty, the fashion was shifting from tight sweaters and such that showed off the breasts, to miniskirts and other leg-enhancing things. Minis were forbidden in school, but I remember gasping when I spotted a female classmate lifting her skirt to adjust a garter or stocking.

“Later, though, out of school, some of my playmates simply enjoyed the way that high heels made their legs look. My ex, Mary, certainly was one of them. She also liked looking at porn where the models wore heels, and eventually, started wearing them to bed for our play. They became part of the play. She kept a couple of pairs, rather extreme in style, which she never wore outside the bedroom. She’d start to lick the heel, then suck it, then even fuck herself with it like a dildo. That became a sexual fetish for me, when she’d offer the shoe to me for my play and enjoyment, and talk about her sexuality flowing into it. Damn.” I was getting uncomfortably hard. The two women noticed it.

Sandra smiled. “I just teased you lightly with heels. Let’s use them more explicitly, or at least as soon as I have some clean ones with me.”

Dove returned to her explanation. “Maybe dance, to you, is more ballet and modern than it is to me. Oh, I like to dance for fun, but I trained in stripper shoes. These are nothing much, only four or five inch.

“Honestly by coincidence, though, I’ve got a pair of clean six-inchers, without platforms, in my bag, which I keep for play. Yes, I can wear them.

“Let me elaborate, though, on how I, rather than Howard, found heels to be interesting. In quite a few parts of Canada, outlaw motorcycle gangs are a shadow government. It was lucky, I suppose, that the Cave Bears were the local outfit in Tumbler Ridge, not the Hell’s Angels. They took me away, very early, from my uncaring family. Some prepubescent girls put on mommy’s high heels, but they put me into stripper shoes and performing in the clubhouse.

“Somehow, even before I was into puberty, I found the ability to manipulate with sex appeal, not even contact. The gang found that unusual and amusing enough that they didn’t try to beat it out of me. Also, rare among gangs, the Bears did, in a very limited way, accept females as full members.

“They let me start gymnastic training, so they could put a sexy gymnast on stage. One night, there was a fire in the clubhouse. When I turned 14, I was showing womanly features, in young form. Using my flexibility and strength, I was able to force open an escape route for some trapped club leaders. Apparently, even though small, I passed the president to rescuers before I passed out. I also knocked unconscious a panicking leader.

“When I woke up, I thought I was in deep, deep, shit for hitting a leader. But next to my bed, I found a sap, a knife, and a rose. One of the club bitches, who never would go for leadership but was nice enough, looked in, saw me awake, brought breakfast, and helped me wash. This was not the standard treatment before what could be savage discipline.

“I was brought before the club leadership, in the temporary clubhouse. It looked like the President had a bowl of soup in front of him.

“Our rules require that a bitch receive several lashes for hitting a member.” He reached into the bowl of chicken noodle soup. “Nowhere does it say that I can’t deliver it with a wet noodle,” which, grinning, he proceeded to do. He gestured, and some members rolled out a lightweight Harley. “You’ll have to pass a riding test soon. Meanwhile, you’re getting a running name. Here it is.” He handed me a little suede sack, which I opened, and then broke up laughing.

It contained two shiny brass balls. Three of the women, grinning like mad, brought out larger package, sort of a presentation case. “The rules also say a member has to fuck three bitches. Well, the box has a couple of dildoes and a strap-on. You’re on your own with this crew. I am being literal when I say that I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with you, but you earned your colors.”

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