I always kept the door to my apartment bolted, so answering the door meant getting back in my wheelchair. And I knew what a waste of time it was going...to be. In fact, I rehearsed my answers on the way over. No, Mrs. Golding, I haven't heard the man upstairs. No, Mrs. Golding, he isn't bothering me. Maybe, Mrs. Golding, you should complain to the building manager all by yourself.Outside my door was not Mrs. Golding, but a vision of incredible loveliness. Long, flowing hair of the finest gold,. I thought about it for some time. What would I say? Suppose she found someone new? Suppose she doesn't want anything to do with me and my problems? Suppose she forgot who I was? I thought about everything that could go wrong until I just made myself sicker than I was.Finally, I picked up the phone and dialed her number."Hello." A female voice answered."Hello, Kate?" I hesitated."No, this is her mother." The voice stated, "Who's calling?" This is Alan." I added, "From school."I was so nervous as. From now on, I own you and I want to hear you admit it. Tell me that you're my butt-slut!" "Yes, Mistress, I'm your butt-slut." "Are you my bitch?" Yes, yes, I'm your bitch." "Good, bitch, that's what I like to hear. Now reach back and stroke your puny little pud for me. That's it, bitch, stroke your teeny weeny while my cock fills your ass. Now bitch, thank me for everything I've taught you tonight." "Thank you Mistress. Thank you for everything." "Now, tell me you love my cock." "Oh, I do. . Quite common things really that you didn't talk about with your friends for they already knew, things what often would be a bore to talk about, to tell or to listen to yet purely by the look on his face and the tone in his voice you knew he sincerely wanted to hear more...You managed to tear your hand away from creeping towards the box, having turned over to try and focus on something else, the doorknob on the other side of the room, though a failed attempt for not even a minute later the.