"The Killmick boys are still not my fault." I repeat for the hundredth time. I don't know why no one believes me."Nice to know you're not taking credi... for random chance," he tightens his arms and gives me one last squeeze."we should go to bed now."he says.I am too content to to contemplate moving so I say instead "let us just stay right here, and you can nibble on me some more." You need sleep." he says in a wheedling tone."bah," I say putting a face at him."Saul needs you." so instead he hits. But a week after the mall experience, I needed to find some action, and logged on to some chat-rooms. After several hours of cat and mouse on some master/slave boards I was about to give up when I clicked on one more, entering as a “master” by mistake. My nick included the name of my town, but was otherwise vague enough that it didn’t label me as a bottom boy.Almost immediately I was IM’d by someone calling themselves armature-slave, who asked if I was really located in that hometown.“Of. You stood up to me, but didn’t overreact. If you were that kind of person, I think that I would already be stuffed into a body bag and headed over to your place to be raped, tortured, and possibly murdered. If they had enough Stockholm Syndrome to follow you despite that, they’d be helping you do it or already would have by now.“Trust me, honey. I get it. You’re testing me, but I’m in deadly earnest. I’ve found a man that I can trust with my submission. Do you honestly think that a woman from a. Les -- you didn't even give me a chance ... try to get to know me."By now his cheeks felt like they were burning. "That's not what I meant, Donna." How else am I supposed to read this?" You weren't supposed to read it at all! That was a private communication for Lori's eyes and for her eyes only. Why would she forward it to you?" He cradled his forehead in his palm. "Oh my God! Who else has seen this? Did she post it on her Facebook? Forward it to all her friends? Is this going to be one of.