Happy birthday to me. And quite the birthday it’s been so far. My parents don’t care, my friends haven’t said anything about it, Mason couldn’t care less about me unless I’m on the clock, and Phoibe just won’t talk to me. Oh, yeah. This is a birthday for the ages. To think that other 25 year olds are probably planning to get absolutely wasted right about now. And here I am, sitting at home with a TV dinner, all by myself, waiting for it to pass by. Quarter of a century, ladies and gentlemen. This is what life leads to. Whoopty doo.

I flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch. I’m not just gonna be unloved and bored on top of it. But as I’m channel surfing, I get a knock on my door and a few rings on my doorbell, taking me off guard. Oh, I knew it. I knew they’d never just leave me alone on my birthday. Friends really are the best thing on Earth.

I step out of bed and step in front of the mirror, making sure I don’t look too gross. And ... I’m manageable, I guess. I put on my sneakers and walk downstairs in pursuit of the door so this birthday can officially get started. I open the door to reveal ... the mailman. Yup. That’s how it works. I should’ve known.

“Hey, there,” he greets, reading his notepad, “Nicholas Drow?”

“Yup,” I say with a sigh,

“Alright, Mr. Drow. I’ve got a package for ya.”

“Thanks.”

He hands me a pretty sizable box. Um ... ok, nevermind the fact that I think I’m supposed to sign for this, but also, I don’t remember buying anything. As I gander at the box, I hear him say,

“Alrighty, have a great rest of your day. Oh, and don’t be so down. It is your birthday.”

This immediately catches my attention. I’ve never even seen this guy before. How could he possibly know that? I lift my head up to ask him, but once I do, he’s gone. Ok. Ominous. Well, I’ve still got this box. Nothing wrong with a free gift, I guess.

I shut the door and walk back upstairs, observing the box in my hands. Who could’ve sent me this? I thought everyone was either too busy or didn’t care. Could they just have felt guilty and just wanted to get me something to make up for not being here? I mean, I’ll take it. As long as I’m still remembered. Thanks, you guys.

I remove the lid of the box, revealing something I haven’t even heard of in years. I didn’t even know that they still made these. I mean, to be fair, what kid nowadays is gonna ask for a Jack-in-a-box. Oh, ha ha, guys. Yeah, I’m an oldie. Thanks for the reminder. The 25 in my age didn’t tell me that I’m old already. Glad to have you guys for reassurance. Why do I even have friends?

I take the box out, getting a better look at it. But as I do, I notice some obvious differences in other Jack-in-a-box toys and this one. First, it’s not Jack. It says Jane-in-a-box. And there’s a note on the side of it that reads,

“Congratulations! You’re in possession of your very own Jane-in-a-box: a compact friend for any occasion if you find yourself alone. Just give her a crank and if you so desire, she will return the favor. ;) Use responsibly.”

Alright, that’s a weird way to boost sales. I guess it’s solid for an adult themed toy. That last part kinda indicates that to be the case. And if it is what I think it is, I don’t think I’ve ever been so immensely insulted in my entire life. Not only are you just gonna make me think that you forgot about me and not only are you calling me old, but you’re just gonna make fun of me for being a virgin, too? These guys are the Grand Central Station of a good time, apparently. But you know what? What the hell? They already went through all this trouble. So fine, anonymous jokester. I’ll humor you. I sit on my bed before grabbing the crank and turning it.

“Round and round the cobbler’s bench

The monkey chased the weasel,

The monkey thought ‘twas all in fun”

I keep turning, trying to reach the climax of the song, but it’s not happening. Great. So not only am I being laughed at, but now I’m left dissatisfied. Cause why not give me a defective toy? This has Daniel’s dumbass name written all over it. I turn around to grab my phone and call him, but I can’t seem to find it. What the hell?

“Looking for this?” I hear a light British voice say as I see my phone dangling in my face.

Who. The fuck. Said that? I’m frozen in place. Who else is here? This is my house. I didn’t invite anyone over. I didn’t even hear anything before this. I eventually gather the balls to turn around to see a girl. She looks ... strange. She’s wearing a very vibrant jester costume, complete with a red nose, a white shirt with rainbow stripes along with suspenders covering her b cup chest, pearly white gloves, colorful frilly thigh high stockings complemented with a black polka dot patterned skirt, a short french bob hairstyle with a half black and half red pattern, and two smiley faces painted on her cheeks.

I’m in pure shock. Who is this girl? Where did she come from? What’s with that costume? Why does she have my phone? What is going on?

“Hiya,” she says, sparatically waving at me, “I’m your Jane. Nice to meetcha.”

Uh ... what?

“My ... Jane?” is all I can manage to utter out,

“Well, yeah. You read the box, didn’t you? See? Right here.”

She picks up the box and presents it to me, pointing at the note.

“‘Your very own Jane-in-a-box’,” she quotes, “Says so right there. I’m officially yours. Yours to do anything you desire. Any kind of fun that you wanna have, I’m right here to do it with ya. Forever.”

I’m so lost right now. What is going on right now? I’m not dreaming. Everything’s too consistent. I don’t drink or anything, so that’s out of the question. So what the hell?

“Well, don’t just stand there like a tuna,” she says, confusing me even more before she nudges me, “Let’s have some fun. What are ya in the mood for? Gaming while I blow you? Cockwarming while watching the game? You wanna play with my ass, while I bark for you? You wanna be my daddy? Whatever your heart desires, so shall it be.”

Ok, woah. That’s just ... wow. She’s not afraid to get to the point, is she?

“Ok, ok, hold on,” I say, “I don’t even know you. What are you doing in my house? How’d you even get in here? Nothing about this makes any sense.”

“Oooh, so you’re one of those,” she replies with a laugh, “You like to get dirty after introductions. I can respect that. Well, I’m a magical being that arrived from this box, here. See? That’s me.”

That picture was not there before. What the hell?

“Anyway,” she continues, “Whenever you turn this crank, I show up like this.”

She turns the crank, reaching the climax of the song, earning a little toy version of her to pop from the box.

“Aww, ain’t she a cutie?” she says, staring in adoration at the toy before tossing it aside, “And after I come, I’ll make sure you do, too. You can be as rough, soft, passionate, dirty, long, or short with me as you want. Then when you’re satisfied, just say the word and I’ll be back in the box, getting out of your way until you wanna be drained again. Or if you really want me to show how wife material I am, I can also make you dinner if you so choose. Results may vary. So that’s basically everything. Anything else you wanna know before we get started?”

Alright, so I’ve officially gone insane. There’s no way that any of this is reality. But fuck it. If I’m gonna forever be trapped in my own twisted mind, I guess I’ll just play along.

“Ok, Jane, the magical being,” I start, “With all this stuff that you say you can do, does that mean you’ve been in the business since the beginning of time?”

“Not really,” she answers, “I’ve just been in business for around 60 years.”

“60, huh?”

“Yup. Divine powers do wonders for the skin, huh?”

“Yeah. Right. So what exactly happens for you to be with different people? What, do they die first?”

“Well ... sometimes. Either that or- ... they-...”

Her demeanor takes a notable shift. She grabs her arm, turning away from me, looking ... depressed. But right before I can ask her about it, she shifts back to her previous energy, saying,

“Yeah, that’s enough of that thought. Anything else you wanna know?”

Ok, so steer away from that topic, I guess.

“Umm- ... Yeah. Yeah, just one more for now. Throughout everything you listed, I couldn’t help but notice that all of them were about pleasing me. If your thing is for both parties to have fun, shouldn’t you know things that please us both?”

“Oh, Janes don’t do that,” she replies with a nonchalant tone,

“Uh ... do what?”

“The whole ‘everyone’s feeling good’ portion of it. I mean, it’s sex, you know, so it happens regardless to an extent, but our purpose is to please you and you alone. We don’t concern ourselves with whatever makes us feel good. It’s about what you want.”

“Hang on, how long has this whole operation existed?”

“About the renaissance era. That should explain my getup, yeah?”

“So this has been going on since the renaissance and not one of you were taught that sex is supposed to involve plesure from everyone involved?”

“Well, we were taught it. We just don’t follow it.”

“Why? That sounds terrible.”

“It’s to our understanding that the majority of mortals couldn’t care less about the female orgasm. So with it being as unpopular as it is, why include it?”

I can’t believe my ears. They really refuse to have fun for themselves because of a wrong opinion? What kind of system is that? That’s just not right.

“Ok,” I start, “You know what? I know what I wanna do.”

“Oh, yay!” she says, hopping and clapping her hands, “What is it? Your wish is my command.”

“Alright. Well, my wish is for the script to be flipped.”

Her demeanor changes from excitement to confusion as she tilts her head.

“What do you mean?” she asks,

“For years you’ve been taking the orders and got nothing from it,” I explain, “Well, that changes today. From here on out, as long as you’re my Jane, we’re gonna do what you wanna do.”

She gets a gleam in her eyes as I make my proposal, saying,

“Are- ... are you serious? You’re not messing with me? You actually mean it?”

“Yup,” I answer, “You’re not gonna be doing the serving in this relationship. You’re gonna get served. So, Jane, what is it that you wanna do?”

Her breathing gets sharper and quicker. She looks so happy.

“Oh my gosh,” she says, clutching her chest as she sits on my bed, “No one’s ever asked me that before. I-I don’t even know how to answer it. So many possibilities. So many things.”

I sit down next to her, saying,

“Well, we’ve got the time. Just know that whatever you do choose, I’ll show the same courtesy that you’ve shown throughout the years.”

I bring my hand to her hair, pushing it behind her ear, earning a blushy smile from her. I smile back at her, staring into her gorgeous scarlet red eyes. She then leans forward, closing her eyes and puckering her lips. I follow suit, leaning down to her and planting a kiss on her soft cherry flavored lips. I then maneuver my hand from her head to her back, pulling her closer to me. She then shifts her body towards me, guiding me down to the bed as she straddles me.

A few minutes pass into the kiss before we break away from each other. She stares at me again, looking as though she wants to say something. So in order to help her out on her new position, I say,

“Have you decided what you want me to do to you?”

She shyly nods her head, gripping onto my shirt. That is just precious. To think that this is the same girl who asked if I wanted to play with her ass and be her daddy, while she barks not even 15 minutes ago.

“Well, what is it?” I ask, “Remember, nothing’s too much or too little to ask. Think of this as your vacation. It’s all about you. So come on. Let me have it.”

“Well,” she starts in a soft tone, “I’ve kinda always wanted to know what it would feel like for someone to- ... play with my ... boobs.”

And that right there is the beauty of this. I knew that she’d want something mutually thought of between us. I could barely keep my eyes off of them this entire time. And now I get to play with them to help her. Life is great.

“Well, as you would put it: your wish is my command,” I say, more than willing to accommodate her request.

She leans up, allowing me to sit up and bring my hands to her suspenders, guiding them down her shoulders before turning my attention to her shirt, pulling it above her head, freeing her perfect boobs. Wait, she doesn’t even wear a bra?

“Underwear is seen as an unnecessary obstacle,” she explains, “I know it’s probably not what someone would expect when they take off a woman’s shirt. Sorry about that.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I assure, “Especially when it makes your dream come true even faster.”

I bring my hands to her chest, grabbing and squeezing her boobs. She closes her eyes in bliss, lightly gasping as I play with her breasts. They’re even softer than I imagined they’d be. They’re so amazing. And her faces and noises are just making this even better. Maybe I judged today sooner than I should have. Now, if she likes what I can do with my hands, let’s see how she likes what I can do with my mouth.

I lean in toward her chest, taking her right nipple in my mouth and lightly sucking on it as I continue kneading the other. She arches her back, moaning from the feeling of my lips wrapped around her areola. Fuck, her voice is so sexy when she’s being treated. Why would anyone neglect her needs when she sounds like this? Public opinion be damned. She deserves this. She needs this. And I’m proud to be the one to give it to her.

I suck harder on her nipple, taking the other in between my thumb and index finger and pinching tighter, earning more sounds of enjoyment from her in the process. I then reciprocate the actions, sucking her left nipple and pinching her right. She moans even more, bringing her hands to my legs to balance herself as she looks down at me with that gorgeous look of satisfaction.

“Wait, wait, stop, stop, stop,” she says, composing herself.

I do as instructed, taking her nipple out of my mouth and releasing the other. After a moment of collecting herself, she looks at me, saying,

“That was amazing. But there’s something else I’ve always wanted to do with these that no one would let me do. Sit right there.”

I obey her command, staying put as she climbs off of my lap and gets on her knees in front of me. Seeing where she’s going, I excitedly reach for the hem of my shorts, only to have her grab my wrists, shaking her head as she grins at me. She then places my hands on my side.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she says, waving her finger, “You’re gonna sit there while I do it. None of my other clients would do this with me because they thought that they were too small for them. Between you and me, though, sometimes these looked like twin Jupiters compared to what I was dealing with.”

I snicker at her comment before saying,

“Alright, if that’s what you want, go for it. I won’t move a muscle.”

“Eh, that’s not entirely true.”

She brings her hands to my shorts, pulling them down my waist and legs, exposing my growing member. She giggles in delight, taking it in her hand and lightly stroking it.