Some of them walk out with the intention of never returning, but most of them don't, and the ones that do - always reappear eventually. I suppose they...are intrigued by the prospect of beating me before furiously stabbing their manhood inside my body and it brings them crawling back with acceptence of what I want to be done. Even if it sickens them to do some of the acts that I wish.Sometimes I get curious to know what makes them so enticed by wrapping their hands around my throat as they. ’ John’s head stuck out around the curtain, then was followed by his shoulders and body, covered in a tunic of forest green. ‘What are we eating?’ ‘The usual…wait..Silver? Black? Blue? You sure?’ Sam’s voice was filled with curiosity. ‘Yeah, I’ll break the armour out of the containers. Special night, you know?’ Catherine looked at the two in curiosity as John answered. What were they talking about? ‘Okay. Roses, then.’ Sam smiled, then bowed to Catherine. ‘You’re in for a treat. Don’t be late!. ..” I began.“Shhh,” she cut me off. “This is my story—a bedtime story I’m telling my lovers.” She untied her belt and let the robe slide down her shoulders. Her head was lifted and she used a finger to stroke down the perfect symmetry from the center of her forehead, down her nose, across her lips and under her chin. She continued down her center axis, almost the way I would draw her, tracing through the hollow at the base of her throat and down between her breasts. The fabric moved away as she. I'll punish you. God damn it, Rhonda! Every night when you go to bed—every morning when you wake up—you look at your foot. You put those words there. I want you to read them every day for the rest of your life and know that I still love you. And when you go to sleep at night, do it knowing that in the morning I'll still love you. And no matter what you do or whatever happens, I'm still going to love you. It's not you you're punishing. I understand now. It's me you're punishing. It's Samantha.