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One Day…
5th September 1999
I came like a thief in the night, letting myself into the back garden, checking that the upstairs lights were out and that I couldn't be seen from the road or the surrounding houses. Checking my mobile to see if any messages of warning had been received, I proceeded cautiously. Looking into the window, I could see my Mistress, working at Her desk, papers scattered around Her as She bent to the task of writing to Her friends and admirers; keeping them amused and content. I watched Her for a moment, drinking in Her delicate figure, long legs tucked beneath Her, breasts just brushing the table as She leant across to flick the ash from Her cigarette. She turned as I tapped on the window, frowning slightly, and indicating with a flick of Her head that She had left the kitchen door open for me. Silently, I entered, kicking off my shoes and removing the long leather coat I habitually wore. Silence was imperative; Long after midnight, Her husband and two children would be asleep upstairs. I smoothed my skirt, tucked the bottom of my black tee shirt in tightly, to make the best of my small breasts, and entered Her presence., silently kneeling at the base of Her desk to await Her attention.
She started to finish what She was doing; signing Her name with a flourish and sealing the letter into the envelope. She added it to a small pile She had completed, and handed them to me, confidant that they would be posted on my way home. She tidied Her desk for a few minutes, and finally turned to me. "Hello, slut," She said. I was careful to keep my eyes downward; "Greetings, Mistress." I bent over and kissed Her feet, as She had come to expect. She rose, and I followed Her into the lounge, switching off the lights as I went, then knelt before Her as She reclined on the sofa. Lighting a cigarette for Her, I asked permission to have one myself. She smiled, considering my request, and slowly nodded. We looked at each other in silence; Mistress and leatherslut, smoke curling from our cigarettes as we considered our positions.
Ours was a strange relationship. Both Switches, She refused to be dominated by a woman, preferring the pain She deemed that only a male could provide, whereas I, as a dyke, refused to have anything to do with them. Still, She at least enjoyed the pleasure I gave Her; when She desired the sweetness of a woman's tongue, or the attentive ear of a submissive girl. Yes, that was the crux of our relationship. Since I could not dominate Her, in order to be with Her, I had taken Her collar. At present it was just a thin leather training collar, under the proviso that if we were both still content after a length of time -we had initially set a period of one lunar year - then I would take Her full one; a band of metal irremovably welded around my neck. Her plan had come to fruition early; I was desperately in love with Her, as I had been with no other before, despite a string of long and short term relationships; so many that I could no longer recall the names of many of the girls I had dated, recalling only those I had had a special fondness for, or had lived with for a while. She knew that no matter how She behaved towards me, I would not leave Her, and She could be extremely cruel, even as She loved me.
I was a pain slut. I lived for the caress of the lash, the bite of the razor on my flesh, the shock of a cigarette burning my skin. She knew, though we had played together only very lightly, that I desired pain more than anything else. Indeed, I was not sexually stimulated by anything less. Over the years I had trained myself not to orgasm, for to do so was to give myself away to the one who caused it, and I had become too used to independence; until i met Her. She was determined that I should orgasm for Her; Indeed, She had tried to force me to it once, without success; but that was in the early days of my submission; now I was ready to give it to Her. And She knew it, and took great delight over the hold She had upon me.
And what a hold it was. It had taken me a long time to admit to myself that I was Hers; that I could not leave Her of my own volition. She knew it long before I did, and had manipulated me to this point. Knowing my desire; nay, need; for pain, She denied it to me, insisting upon my monogamy so that I would take it from no other, and denied me sexual pleasure too. I was kept permanently hungry; hungry for pain, hungry for sex; my clit constantly hard against the steel piercing in my hood. And I hated Her for it; and adored Her for the same reason. I had submitted to Her voluntarily; my spirit knew it, my mind knew it. One Day, my body would know it too. Still I fought Her, though, going through long periods of self doubt about wanting this, knowing in my heart that I did, and wondering if I had the strength to go on like this,
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