I know that sounds crazy, but she had filled me with herself. Mistress Monique had poured herself into me and I just had to be near her all the time. ...his was the only way.Call it love if you will.It isn’t love really. It’s more obsession than love and affection. Sort of worship I suppose. Ever since I let Mistress Monique put the cuffs on me, that first visit, I was drawn and I suppose that it was just a matter of time before Mistress Monique told me to serve her.The short months before were. After I flop down on the blanket, she lays down beside me. I offer her my arm for a pillow. She chooses my chest instead. I wrap my arm around her shoulder. She props herself up on an elbow and kisses me lightly on the lips. It isn’t a serious kiss. Neither was the kiss I gave her in return. She made a light sound of contentment, reached under my tee shirt and scratched gently at my stomach. I patted her on her ass. Her leg goes over my legs. I put my hand behind her head as I pull her to me.. More

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