He was different. We had four dates in which he touched me, flirted, even kissed me—hard, possessively—but put me away from him and sent me home a...ter a couple of hours. ?I want you,? I had told him, stone sober, my hands fisting his jacket outside the door to my own lonely apartment. ?I know,? he said. Then his hand in my hair was holding me still, he took my keys and opened the door for me, pushed me inside, and left. That’s how it started. The first time we fucked, I came the second he. At least not yet.I knew right then and there that I was going to do whatever it took toaccept something that large in my own body. I secretly hoped that one daymaster would be fucking me with that monster cock. I knew Mistress was inpure heaven from her moaning. I WANTED that with all of my being.Karen and I had willingly volunteered our lives to sexual servitude. Weknow exactly what that meant. Our bodies no longer belonged to us and oursexuality was to be dictated by either of them. We were. More

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