After an exchange of messages Joanne had agreed to my idea and would pick up her mother on the way. ‘Dress code?’ was Joanne’s final question an... without waiting for me to decide Rachael had sent ‘Full slut’ to both women.I heard Joanne’s car pull into the driveway of the house just before noon on Saturday. Rachael was soaking up some of the late summer sun in the back garden as I went outside to meet our guests. The car was a low convertible and as I went to open the passenger door I could see. He pauses and looks into my eyes with his evil smile “Do you want me to continue?”. “Yes” I breathe. “You haven’t had enough?” he asks. “Kiss me deeply” I answer as I let my knees fall slowly to the sides revealing my waiting pussy. Just his breath now of my outer lips as they begin to swell and part even more than they already have to invite his touch. But he withholds his touch and teases me with his hot breath until I whimper "please". Slowly, and so softly, his tongue now probes my swollen. The letter ended with a brief but firm postscript that the museum in question wanted to avoid any notoriety that might come with the publication of this journal. Furthermore, with their delivery of the package to its rightful owner, the firm's obligation to any involved party was now ended.The letter raised far more questions than it answered. Who wrote the diary and when? Who donated it to the museum and how were they related to me? What museum would not want an original document from probably. .. and when I was younger, I think it saved my life a bunch of times. I wasn’t suicidal ... it’s just that I’d get beaten down so far by my parents’ expectations, and displeasure I wasn’t meeting those expectations, that I’d start thinking there was no way for me to make it through without bending to my parents’ will. I didn’t know I was a submissive yet, but my need for approval and validation ... there were times in my teenage years I strongly considered putting me – the real me – to the side.