And God, the edging. He only let her come one day a week, maybe two days if she’d been very very good. But in between, he made her edge seemingly al... the time. One day it had been twelve times, and nearly drove her mad. After the twelfth time, she thought she might come just from pulling up her panties. Yet the worst days were the days she wasn’t allowed to touch her clit or pussy at all. Which almost always followed a day of ten or twelve, or if she did something that displeased him. Worse,. The moon, the tide, anything. Anything at all. But not that. Happiness is something earned and to have anything greater than the knowledge of this man would be more than my life has been worth. But I see his eyes. I know his thoughts. I just pray he learns the fallacy. That, without pain, he learns that I have nothing to offer, nothing to give in return for the beauty he has shown me. I feel his touch again, losing myself to what it brings. And I tell him, ‘It’s skin deep. Simple physical. More

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