I wish you to hurt me, not as a punishment as the poseurs would have it, but as a way of showing your love.You have indicated that you would never req...ire me to suffer pain inflicted by more than yourself and certain selected close friends and this I welcome. The pain excites me, firstly as I show that while submissive I am not a doormat, by fighting the desire to scream and beg and secondly because it invokes in me a hidden sexuality that demands that I be used as brutally as I am whipped and. He panicked when she first arrived, which meant I ended up having to introduce myself to her while he stood there sweating, but afterwards I made myself scarce so she wouldn’t catch me glaring at him. As far as I know he never told her, and I certainly didn’t. But he read the room, and two days later he was clerking for a different judge. He did eventually marry her, too. If I wasn’t doing something vastly worse right now, I’d feel sorry for her. Or maybe the sex is worth it, and she can’t help. She was wearing a full turtleneck sweater the color of a soft red wine. Her hair was a silky blue-black, feathered and layered to frame her face perfectly. Here eyes were the color of sapphires, a deep blue that glinted with a kind of dangerous beauty. I seem to remember wandering over to her table, and somehow found myself sitting down with her. I'm not really sure what line I used, or if I even said anything to her at all. I think we made small talk, but I haven't the faintest idea what. How was he to explain to her about it? In an attempt to discourage her curiosity, he told her that since he was a boy, he was a little different than how a girl looks down there, and that its nothing to worry about and it would go away. Samantha still wanted to know more. So, being the inquisitive little girl she was, she sheepishly asked to see it, as she had always thought the difference between a girl and a bog was that girls had long hair. Kyle had just peaked his siss curiosity and there.