I mentioned earlier about the list I was sent and instructed to fill in and the sheer horror that possessed me when doing so. However as the months progressed and the number of times we could meet increased, we were speaking everyday. It was so different, so new. I mean he just got me. I could tell the man anything (even that I have a slightly disturbing knowledge of serial killers), and at no point did it feel like he just accepted it, he liked it. He liked me.
This in turn inspires confidence to tell him that my opinion on some things had changed. To tell him about the beautiful detailed fantasies I was having at night. Fantasies that I’d have never dare speak of before. Dreams of being used, of being whipped. Dreams of being broken. Now I’m not about to sit here and say to you that I…
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Eve Maitresse 