Part Two
This second part is written by Susan. I thought it might be interesting for you to read about things from her point of view-----
I have never met a man like Him.
When I told him I was crazy, he didn't flinch. Then I told him I was really certifiably crazy ( I have a psych file to prove it). I am bipolarII. I have an I.Q. of 152 and I don't look too bad, if you like slim redheads. It has proven a bad combination for a lot of men…, before him. He is the only man who can deal with me, with my moods, my needs, my craziness. I take Welbutrin for depression, but now I don't have to take any mood stabilizers. I hate them, they turn me into someone I am not, they take the edge off of life… I need to see the edge sometimes and He takes me there and takes care of me so I don't go too far. He whips me when I need it and he fucks me anytime he wants. He doesn't think I am weird, just a little twisted, but then so is he.
Not many men would brand a woman, he branded me, he owns me. I think he loves me, but he wouldn't say so, but I tell him all the time… and I really do. I love to cook for him, to bath him, to pet him, to be his slut, the object of his desire. I know he has other women. It is okay. It would be selfish not to let him. Too many other women need a guy like him. Besides, I can't be around him all the time. I have too much responsibility at the university. Being bipolar makes me sex obsessed and if I didn't have the distraction of my job I would never do anything but beg him to fuck me. I could write more but he told me to write about something hot, something that would turn all of you on.
The first time I saw Him he was wearing an oxford cloth shirt and Levis. He had the nicest ass and the Levis really showed it off to good advantage. His cock was right out front in his jeans and I could see the outline of it bulging under the material. His manner was confident and relaxed, very casual. He seemed very comfortable in his skin. His eyes were the first thing I noticed about his face. They were dark brown and seem to give off a heat when he looked at me. There was a just a touch of gray in his temples and in his mustache.
He had been fucking a girl, a student, whom I had been counselling. She was bipolar like me. I didn't believe the stuff she had told me, but frankly hoped it was true and if so I was envious. I wanted him even before I had met him. I never figured he would be so good looking or even give me a second look. At our first meeting I tried to be professional and even assertive, but after being in his presence, after looking at this rugged man with broad shoulders, narrow waist and the cutest ass I has ever seen, I became submissive and wanton. I could feel my nipples stiffen and the pit of my stomach spasm as my clit began tingling. I was afraid my juices would literally run down the insides of my thighs. I was such a slut for him. I did everything he told me to and let him fuck me right there on the spot, just as I hoped he would.
It was a week before he called me. He told me to come to his home the next day, let myself in, and I would find instructions on the desk in the entry hall. I couldn't sleep that night. I fucked my big purple vibrator all night trying to imagine what he had in store for me. My past is full of men I hoped could understand me, who could give me what I craved, but every single one proved to be more talk than action. I am multi orgasmic. I can come over and over and most men have found that to be intimidating. I am manic when it comes to sex. One orgasm just sets me off and I find I need more and more. I need a man who can deal with that and set some boundaries; you know, discipline. I am also a sensation junkie, especially for pain. The feel of a belt on my ass not only hurts but it makes me wet too. I can't explain it. I just know I need it. I hoped He would not be like the others.
The note was on the desk just as he said. The house was quiet. The note said to undress, fold my clothes and place them in the bottom drawer of the chest on the opposite wall. As I removed my blouse and bra, I sensed I was being watched. I was. I spied a security camera over a mirror at the end of the hall. I found that unsettling and arousing. I began to tremble, my breathing became rapid. I felt a tingling in the pit of my stomach. Too much coffee and nicotine I told my self. I felt I was losing control. I felt like I would do anything. I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, then pushed my panties to my ankles and stepped out of them. I wondered if I should take my shoes off and then I did just to be safe. I folded my clothes and squatted down to open the drawer. There in the drawer were four leather cuffs. There was also a black leather collar with one large ring hanging from it. From the ring two small nipple clamps were suspended from chains. The clips had screws to limit just how tightly they closed on the nipples. There were five small brass "Master" locks laying on another note. Each lock was open. There was also a pair of very severe high heeled pumps in the drawer. Squatting naked on the floor I took the note and read it in my trembling hands. I felt a chill and my nipples stiffen painfully. I sensed that my pussy lips were slick and gaping from the fact that I was squatting. I wondered if he planned it this way. I wondered if he knew how all of this would make me react and how it would make me feel.
"If you wish to change your mind, now is the time to do it. Otherwise, follow my directions. Whilst standing put the shoes on your feet, then bend over and apply the cuffs to each ankle, after that each wrist, then lock each of them with one lock. Put the collar around your neck and apply the clamps to your nipples. Then put you clothes in the drawer and use the last lock to lock the drawer. Stand up and face the mirror and then go to the mirror turn right and then go down the hall to the last door on your left and knock. You are being video taped. If you fail to do as instructed this is as far as you will go."
Straight forward and simple, He knew how to test me, to see how bad I wanted it. He knew how to get me under his control with no escape and no choice. I liked his way. There was none of that cliched master/slave talk, no pontification, just specific directions, directions designed to find out just what I was all about, directions that demanded unconditional surrender. I wondered if he knew just how bad I wanted that.
I did everything I was told. As I clicked each lock shut I became aware of just how much control I was giving up. I can't explain the excitement I felt. He has the kind of confidence that makes you trust him. He isn't a smooth fast talker, but you get the sense that he means what he says and he keeps his promises.
I looked at myself in the mirror. The heels were high, very high. They made my feet hurt. They made my ass look great! They made me stand up straight, with my shoulders back, my chest projecting my tits straight out. I pulled the rings on each of my pierced nipples, stretching them and applied the clamps to each one. Then I backed off the screws and let the full force squeeze them. I savored the pain. I immediately felt warm, felt the heat in my stomach, the tingling in my clit. I was beginning to understand Him to understand just why He had this power over me. I looked to my right down the hall and walked to the last door on the left. I was sure he could hear the click, click of the heels on the hardwood floor. I was panting, tense with anticipation. I just wanted to be fucked so bad. I wanted him to hurt me, to make me a little scared, to take me to the edge and let me look over but not fall. I knocked on the door. I could hear movement inside. Then I heard the His invitation to come in.
I wasn't prepared for what I saw. He was shirtless standing in front of a narrow window, the light of which almost blinded me. He was almost in silhouette. A woman was bent over a wooden device, a leather strap held her down by her waist. Her wrists and legs were strapped to each leg of this piece of furniture the top of which was just wide enough to support her mid-section. Her breasts hung from one side and her ass dangled from the other. I could see stripe across her ass and when I looked at him I could see the whip in his hand.
"I thought you might like to see Patti and I playing our little games. You seemed so curious."
I didn't know what to say. It was Patti. I was embarrassed and ashamed that my own lack of control allowed me to get in this situation. I felt so vulnerable, off balance,… and so damned excited. Without saying a word he began to whip her some more. She tossed her head from side to side crying out in pain, begging him to stop.
"She doesn't really want me to stop. Look here."
He set his whip aside and pulled the cheeks of her ass apart.
" Come closer, look at this. See her pussy. The little whore is practically dripping."
He teased her pussy and she arched her back lasciviously as though offering it to be fucked.
"The more I whip her the wetter she becomes. Tell me, are you wet too. Come here."
Wordlessly I obeyed and he roughly felt my pussy, easily sliding a finger between my lips.
"You know Patti and I planned this. Patti is so good at finding like minded women. For someone so intelligent I am a little surprised. I guess you can be a little impulsive at time can't you?"
I just nodded.
He asked me if I wanted to go. If I wanted to be released. I said no. Then he reminded me of my situation, that I had freely applied my bonds and that he took that as in invitation to do with me as he pleased. He reminded me that I had be video taped and that he would not be afraid to use it if he needed to enforce my obedience. I was beginning to get a little scared. His demeanor changed though and his voice became gentler, more caring.
