"He-he spoke of such an event to... to you?" No. Jean Paul Richard never spoke of your private bliss to anyone. Itis much too precious." But then ho......?" He never spoke of how he first met you at that run down book store toanyone." But..." He never spoke to anyone that he first kissed you on that bridge overthe Seine as the revelers were setting off fireworks and felt theminsubstantial compared to his own reactions to you. He never-" Wait! How do you know these things if Jean Paul never. The machine would be programed for that fantasy, mild, moderate and to the extream. There would be several rooms with different machines each designed to accommodate what ever the girl wanted and would start out with her horizontal on her back, tummy or bent over, and she could also be in a vertical or inverted position. From there she would be strapped into or onto the specific machine a set of special eye wear would cover her eyes, earphones would be placed on her head and secured, all sorts. Slowly but surely my mind has started to come to terms with the reality I find myself in, as a totally dependent bitch-toy. My feelings on this matter are all over the map; some nights I cry myself to sleep overcome with fear and anxiety lamenting the situation I find myself in. There are other times when I feel a sense of security knowing that my choices aren't my own, rather they're made for me, in all honesty its for the best.I suppose a bit of backstory is called for…I've always been. “What can you possibly ‘demonstrate’ tonight? What do you intend to-“ “No questions, Elizabeth. I’m going to tell you what I expect of you, and you re going to comply, do you understand?” “Yes, sir,” she replied, her mind still reeling with the possibilities of what he could possibly have in mind. “That’s a good girl. Did you check the mail today?” he inquired “Yes, sir, but I haven’t opened it yet, you called before I had the chance.” “And is there anything from our bank in there?”.