My story was recent and straightforward. Kathy was surprised that prior to the last few weeks I had never had any previous pedophilic inclinations. It...was the first time I had attached the term to myself. I knew it was true but I just could not reconcile with myself that I was one of those lecherous old men that used to be condemned in the states.Kathy's story went further back. She explained that she first found herself attracted to children when she was babysitting in high school.'I was only. They were different to the usual graphic close-ups I’d gotten used to seeing on this site. One picture was a close-up of her legs, kneeling on a bed wearing stockings, suspenders and heels. In another photo, she was handcuffed to a banister, blindfolded while he held a glass of champagne to her lips. Still another picture showed her stocking clad legs bound with red rope. If I’d been actively looking on this site, they would have exactly what I’d have been looking for.“More than tempted…” I. ?Excuse me?! I didn’t hear you,? he barked at her. ?No Master!? she instinctively replied, somewhat loudly. ?I think you need to be punished for your tone slave,? he growled . Immediately, she began to worry. She thought, ?Will he be gentle? Will he be overbearing and hurtful? Of course he won’t, he has given me no reason to think so to this point.? ?Are you willing to submit to me as my slave girl?? he asked in an official tone. She nodded in the affirmative which brought a broad smile to his. The party was in the nice side of town, expensive houses and manicured lawns. I walked down the driveway admiring the gardens. The lawn had numerous pathways into the back gardens which were rich with trees and shrubs as well as stone walls and flowers. I put on my plain, red paper mask and entered. The party was in full swing. A quartet of musicians played in the corner to provide pleasant mood music, but the scene was far from tranquil. Everyone there was having a good time, and everyone.