This was our first meeting. Nothing else was remotely like this. No internet chat came close. We touched, sometimes accidentally, mostly intentionally... There was that something again and again. “Are you wet?” I was stunned. “What?” “I asked, are you wet?” I had to think, to let myself find out. “Well, actually, no.” She smiled, “Good.” “Good?” “Of course. We have been talking, so far, about things, about our lives, about our plans, our families. So far that is.” She grinned. “Do you realise. He had already beaten me once, for refusing to write the story the first time he ordered me to. The welts have finally started to disappear and I can move fairly well again. Master K had been training me, he said that he was appalled at my inability to obey and act properly. His idea of training was to backhand me when I did something he disliked, or restrain me and use the various toys and devices that he has in the playroom he held me captive in to torture me into submission. He made it. More

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