Dream or Torment? Part I

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No duplication or transmission, whole or in part, without prior written permission.

Chapter 1 - The Entrapment - July Emails

I am new to your site. It is the first and only site that I've joined. You've got it right...exactly right for me. I read "About Cait" and I am in total agreement with you. Frankly, I feel reassured somehow. Glad to know there are others like me. And while I am not your guy, I would like to be....oh, would I like to be! Mark

Hiya Mark,(*warm smile*) Thank you for the email and the compliments! Hey, never underestimate what is possible! The man and I broke up in December. (*smile*) Tells you when those first pages went up, huh? :) heheheh I'm really happy to hear you enjoy the site as much as I do! : ) Let me know if there's anything more I can do for you! Caitlyn

Hello again, Miss Cait, I am amazed that you replied. I am amazed I mailed you in the first place! (grin) This has been a learning experience. It is very interesting. You said you are an assertive person who is excited by someone who can dominate you. I am the opposite...a quiet and reserved person who is...ummm, attracted to... young ladies who are...let us say...vulnerable. I have read about you and your interests on the site. You are certainly a very complicated individual! I am not. I am simple. "Plain vanilla", if you will. I have no time for the complexities. I am interested in only one thing. And I will have that by any means. It is a gentle violence that I seek. I have no interest in hurting anyone. That is disgusting. But I will give pleasure, even before I take it. No matter how long it takes, or how much it is resisted. Objections are heard and ignored. Struggles are met with gentle force and a smile. I will win. Restraints will be used. I will do everything I want to do. As slowly as an icecube melts, I will proceed, savoring each drop as it melts. Very slowly, very quietly, very gently. But I will never stop. Not ever. The pleasure is only more intense the more it is resisted. So surely you can see how different we are, and I say to you,again, that I am not your guy. Not your type at all. And I'm fat, old and ugly, to boot. So you can relax... and take it easy...nothing's going to happen...you're quite safe here with me. (big smile and wink). Mark

Mark, (*gasping and speechless*) Cait

Gasping and speechless! Oh my dear Miss Cait! I'm afraid I have...umm..upset you. I did not want to do that! I would never do that to anyone....upset them, I mean. You see, that is my problem...I am not assertive. No indeed, not at all. That's how I know that I am just NOT the guy for you. I always put others before me...their needs are to be met before mine. My friends tell me I am generous to a fault. I guess so. I have this unquenchable need to...umm...give. To give things. To give gifts...extravagant gifts. To give...pleasure. And, I'm afraid, I just won't take "no" for an answer. They tell me that I worship my...umm...friends, that I place them on a pedestal. Maybe so. At least I never use the awful words that some people do...terrible names...vulgar and disgusting. I'm just not like that. I am sure you get so many emails. I hope you don't mind my writing to you. I mean, I understand you have little interest in this because I'm not the strong, dominating type. It's really better that way, because if I thought, even for a minute, that you might like my company...that you might enjoy my...ummm...attention, well, that would be a very...umm...serious thing to me. Very serious. You see, then I would have to locate you, to find you, to...umm...get to you. And I would move Heaven and Earth to do it. It would create such a bad situation, it would be so...dangerous. So, you see, its much better this way...my knowing I'm not right for you. So we can relax...and you can take it easy...and know that nothing is going to happen, that there's nothing to be afraid of. I'll be leaving for the weekend, so I won't be around. I have a place on the coast. It's small, but I love the view of the water. I can sit there for hours, watching the dog run. It helps me forget all the stress of the job. And the boat hasn't been run in a while. They tell me that's bad for the engines. So if the weather's good, I should take her out. Besides, it'll get me away from this huge, empty house. Sitting here, alone in the dark at night, the place just echoes....Mark

Umm.....Mark..... ^&&*&#%^% (*hides face in hands*) #$%%^$&^&^*&*!!!! Pacing, trembling, and stupified at seeing this reaction in myself, Confused, Cait

PS: Sssssso Mark, #$%&^*^% $#%%%^ arrrrghhh!!!! Oooo nevermind! (*groan*) Cait

PPS. (I do *not* get that many emails! not like this, especially......!)

Dear Diary, A man has started writing to me....emails, I mean. He's strange. I mean, he startles me. He says he's not my type, but the things he wrote...the way he describes things...excite me. I don't understand at *all* how a man so opposite my expectations could so easily get to me.... And now he's gone for the weekend, and I can't stop thinking of him....Cait

Mark !!!!! ~~~~~~ .... !! (you're managing to... you're..... You're undermining me with gentleness!!! and I'm.....my body is......i'm *responding* to it! ??!!! It's not fair! I don't understand!!!) (Going back to fitful pacing,) (Wait -- No No No!!! You are not "upsetting" me!!!) %(**&(*)* (*knotting brows, thinking....*) Feeling fragile, (#$&^%(*&!!! over *what*??!!!? for no good reason!!!!) Cait

Re-reading your emails AGAIN, for the FOURTH time.......I'm..... *())&^% You're....!!! *&(*%*&^!!!! GRRRR!!!! (*SIGH*) (*tapping nails on keyboard, debating....brain fuzzy*) ... Do you have a picture of you online I can look at, Mark? Please? And where's this place you're going to? (*off to bed to hide - and to try to forget*) Cait

I'm back! So......I am back from my usual weekend getaway. (I'm not quite ready to tell you where it is...except that it's within driving distance of you.) I pull in the garage, open the door, and turn on the lights and also the computer. The dog is glad to be home. She trots in and lies down on the warm, carpeted floor. I am checking my e-mail...it's mostly junk. But wait! One, two, THREE messages from Miss Cait! Oh, no! I have really done it now! I have....insulted her somehow...she must be angry. But wait,again...what are these...these marks? Egyptian hieroglyphics? No, no...it is something else...her message is ENCRYPTED!! Oh, wow! She must really know computers to be able to do that!! But no, I am wrong again....see, there it says,"nails tapping on keyboard." Ooooh! I love nice nails! And there's more..."my body...is responding." .....Uhh oh..........there it goes. I stop and read this again. And again. The muscles in my back and abdomen tighten, making me sit up straight in my chair. The dog is tired from all the running this weekend and has been lying in front of the fireplace; she suddenly sits up and looks at me, her head cocked and ears forward. You know, it's really funny the things dogs can sense. The little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I have goosebumps. I suddenly need a drink of water. I stand up, go into the bathroom and fill a paper cup with cold water. I look at myself in the mirror over the sink. I've gotten too much sun this weekend. I look at my eyes. What is wrong with my eyes? They were never that color! They are so dark now..... I already know what I don't want to admit to myself. The demon is loose. He has gotten out that spot in my mind where I keep him bottled up. He knows there is a girl...a pretty girl...a VERY pretty girl...that needs...umm attention. She is vulnerable. She needs his...umm...help. I become aware of a pain...an ache...that seems to be located high up between my legs. Inside. It feels heavy and hard as stone. I look down at my hands. My fists are clenched and my knuckles are white. I look down lower at myself. I am starting to swell. It is bulging out, taut against the front of my pants. It hurts to have it so confined. I look back in the mirror at myself. What I see is the good Dr. Jeckyl forcing the evil Mr. Hyde back into his prison. I am thankful that Miss Cait is not here 
right now. Hyde is strong, and if she were here, Hyde would have his way with her... for sure. I tell myself I have to do something, or this is going to get out of hand. I am so clumsy! I have not made it clear to Miss Cait, that I am not her guy. I have misled her somehow, and her "body is responding." She doesn't understand that I am NOT assertive, I can NOT dominate her. I would bore her. I need a girl who is....helpless. There is nothing that...umm...pleases me... more than a poor, sad, helpless girl. Someone to whom I can give...pleasure. Pleasure that she does not want, but that she will enjoy...deeply...because she needs it. I must make this clear to Miss Cait. I have to show her that I am not her cup of tea. I have to tell her my fantasy, so she can see for herself that I am not the one. She has to know just exactly what I'd like to do with her...for her...to her. She has to see just how dull and boring it would be. I am sooooo gentle, and soooooooo slow........... But that has to be later. Tomorrow, perhaps. It is late and I must go to bed now. I have to get some sleep...or try to. The demon is still awake inside me, and his terrible screams may keep me up for hours. But don't worry, little Cait. I'm okay now. The demon has quieted down again, really. And I am back in control. Nothing will happen to you. So...you're....safe. (*wide smile*) And no, there are no pictures of my ugly face online. I am not handsome, so spare yourself. What am I like? Depends who you ask, Miss Cait. My friends say I am a nice guy...quiet, sincere, gentle, considerate,and generous to a fault. Mark

Hiya Mark! I'm reading your email now. While I do, you might be interested in a little read yourself:
http://www.caitsbasement.com/AboutCait/confession.html
Thank you! (go read, you'll understand more) (*warm smile*) Cait

Ooooooooohhhhhhhhhh! My Dear Miss Cait! I am *deeply moved*! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!!! I have read your 'confessions'. I don't know if I can adequately tell you how much it means to me!! I have never approached getting to know someone from this...starting point. It is so... liberating... refreshing... honest. I have to tell you something, Miss Cait...I think you are one brave little girl! I am older than you are, and even now I am only just beginning to find the courage deal with this aspect of myself. It is a very private thing, you know...a taboo... and you have had the strength to deal with it openly. I am learning things about myself...what I really want, perhaps why I want them, and 'where I come from.' Why did I wait so long?!?! To tell you something about my childhood, I was an only child...until I was 15. I was, by all accounts, a "good boy." I was smart, did well in school, and cleaned my plate at supper. I was proud to make my parents happy. I was able to do just about everything they asked of me. I was a pudgy little thing as I toddled off to school, carrying my briefcase (Do you know what a 'pocketliner' is, Cait? They are a joke today, but I always wore one!) I did what they ...and everyone else...told me do to. I never got into any kind of trouble growing up. Wouldn't have dreamed of ever doing anything wrong, or bad. I'm not Catholic, but if I were, I would've been a 'choir boy'...in fact, the damned *head* choir boy, if there is such a thing!! In high school, I remember the other boys...they were bad. They wanted to do bad things...with the girls. Why did the girls even talk to them? Why did they like them? I remember the prettiest and smartest girl in our class had a crush on this guy who laughed at the teachers, got all F's, and dropped out of school the day he turned 16 years old. Wait until the girls see how *nice* I can be! They'll like me then! They'll talk to me then! They'll go out on dates with me then! But they didn't...not in high school. And not in college. And not after that. And I remained a virgin until I was 30 years old........and you, my dear Miss Cait, are the only other person on this planet that knows that fact!! When I was in college, and there were parties to go to, I was *always* the "designated driver". "Call Mark...he's back in the dorm, studying!" "Sombody puke in the hall? Get Mark...he'll clean it up for us!" And when I left the dorm for an apartment of my own, the Residency Advisor says to me, "Gosh, Mark, we'll miss you! You're such...such...such a GOOD BOY!" And everyone laughed, because of how he said it. I had never heard "good boy" used as an insult before. I had never even considered that it *could* be used that way...to ridicule...to say, "you're a fool!" I was then a 21 year old man. It was the last time I wept. Well, I would show them. We'll see who has the last laugh! I never actually said it, or even thought it, in that way...but it was how I...lived. Studied hard, worked my butt off. For years. I was determined to...win. Get ahead. If they...the girls...didn't like me because I was "nice", then maybe they'd like me because of what I had, and what I could give them. And if they couldn't resist me, if they couldn't run away and I could make them feel the pleasure they would deny me otherwise,...I would show them... (And secretly, I would get my way. I would have what I want.) Cait, I would not have thought it possible to feel about you the way I do at this moment...I mean, a few days, a couple of e-mails...I have never met you, never spoken to you, never even seen your face...So why do I feel like I know you so well? Why is "Caitlyn"..."Miss Cait"..so appealing to me? Why does even just the name sound so beautiful? Why do I want to just hold you...right now...and let you cry it all out, let you cry out all the frustration you've experienced? Why do I want you sooooo much? Why do I want to give you what you want? Is it because I think I know *what* you want? And why? And how? Maybe it's because... it is what I want, too, in the same way, and for the same reason. I'll send you another email later. Please be patient. I am slow and meticulous. Mark

Dear Diary, What am I getting myself into? I know he's beckoning me, like a spider to a fly, but I can't help myself. I can't resist his gentle words, his slow methodical pace is so calming, he makes me feel so safe. And yet I KNOW that Dr. Hyde lurks behind his eyes. Why can't I stop myself? This must be what it was for women hypnotized by Count Dracula. Delicious, irresistable, dangerous. Frightening and exciting, all at the same time. Cait

Well, Cait...are ya ready? Cause here we go! This is my fantasy. This is what I want to do with *you*. I don't have a name for this scenario...wait!.. how about The Middle-aged SugarDaddy and The 
Sophisticated, Young Businesswoman/Professional? How does that sound? That about sums it up. It's not that far out... not that impossible...and for me that makes it all the more...ummm..arousing. As you read this, I want you to remember that it's *you* in the story, that it's you I am thinking of....and in my mind, I *am* doing it with you... for you...to you.

We need to meet...a first meeting...somewhere safe for you. You are a fine young lady and would,of course, never agree to meet a stranger under any circumstances that might seem to be improper. Midday...middle of the week...plenty of people around...you pick the spot...familiar, close, easy for you to drive to...a coffee shop...maybe a little light lunch...maybe just coffee...I am thinking of a 'Boarders', or something like that, at a shopping mall. You would be able to identify me by the red tie...or the blue shirt...or whatever we had agreed upon by email. I am already seated...I had arrived early...sipping my coffee...reading a paperback. I, on the other hand, have no way to identify you...no way to know who you are...no way to pick you out from the other people in the store. You can always leave without saying a word...if I look too old, or too ugly, or you just got nervous about the whole thing. I would never even know you were there. It would be completely impersonal. There would be absolutely no danger to you whatsoever. How could there be? So you can relax...you are safe...nothing is going to happen...not with the store full of people...in the middle of a bright, sunny day. You decide it's okay to sit down...neither of us know what to say...but that's fine. We just smile. You are even more lovely than I had imagined...I can hardly conceal my delight. I can see you're a little nervous...self-conscious...so I speak first...Hi, I'm Mark...you must be Cait...nice to meet you...can I get you something? Coffee? Or someting from the menu? How was your drive? Traffic heavy? Some weather,huh? What am I reading? Oh, it's good...you might like it, too.... Say, how 'bout them Mets! The conversation is easy after only a moment or two. You finish your coffee in a few minutes and stand to leave. You think I don't notice as you demurely straighten your clothing...brush down your skirt...and flip your hair. But I do.... I delay you... to ask if I may escort you to the theater the following weekend...or a play...or perhaps a concert...in New York City...I have tickets. You accept...I am delighted. I suggest that you allow my driver to call for you at your home...John does my ouside work and drives for me when I'm tired...or when I just don't feel like it. He is the soul of discretion...very quiet...trustworthy...no questions. I suggest that we might make a day of it...if you're available...for some sightseeing...or a museum...or an art gallery...whatever you'd like. Of course, then, we'd have to have dinner...just the two of us...somewhere nice...anywhere you'd wish...doesn't matter...John knows them all. The Four Seasons? Wonderful!! I'll make reservations. Might I also suggest we arrange for some lodging for the evening? The play is over so late, you know... separate rooms? Why, certainly! I'd have it no other way! The Plaza is nice, if that's acceptable to you. You reach for the check, to pay for your coffee. I stop you, gently touching your wrist. How ridiculous! I insist upon paying for you. I always pay...always. No 'dutch'!! Never! You are a *lady*!!!! But you don't know that about me... not yet. So you smile and graciously extend your hand to me...to shake and say 'thank you'. You are every bit the lady!! I accept it,.... gently... the way a gentleman accepts a lady's smaller hand...just the four fingers. I lift your hand and...bowing slightly...I softly...very softly...touch the back of your delicate hand to my lips. It surprises you...and you chuckle and smile sweetly. I smile back, releasing your hand. You relax...I can see it in your eyes...the tension leaves...standing there, your posture changes a little...you see my smile...and feel...secure. That pleases me. Because, although it is not much, I have at last seen you....and your well-manacured fingernails...which you said tapped so fitfully last week on the keyboard. And I have touched you. And smelled you. And tasted your skin. You are so blissfully unaware of the deep, seething lust you have stirred within me. You walk to the door to depart, glancing back over your shoulder, suprised to see me following you. I will open the door for you, of course...I always do. You again smile and chuckle at me. You do not see me, behind you...as I watch you walk...as I watch how your legs move under your skirt...how your arms move at your sides. How a girl *moves* is important to me. And I can see that you move *very* well. I think that you can probably *dance* well, too, and I imagine you....dancing. The door is in front of us and my daydream is interrupted. I grab the handle, stopping you...Oh my, I almost forgot to give you my phone number...John's phone number...so you may summon him to come for you...yes, any time you wish...he will be waiting. No, no I don't want *your* phone number. You really would worry about it later... second thoughts about your privacy, and all. You smile again, grateful that I have anticipated this for you. I open the door for you now...and if I do it just right, the breeze will carry your scent to me...to my face. I inhale deeply, my nostrils flairing...and you fill my head. I smell your perfume...it is wonderful...but there is someting else that I smell, too...it is you, Miss Caitlyn...your smell. Your femininity. I can't get enough of it, even though I try to continue to inhale until my lungs ache. I will remember it. You are outside now, and you turn to wave over your shoulder as you walk away. Again the little smile, and I smile back. See...I am not following you. Your are safe...this is all going to be fine...just fine, you think to yourself. You are out of sight now...I look at my hand on the door handle. It is clenched tightly, knuckles white. It is an effort for me to let go. I turn and head to the cashier to pay the tab...quickly. I am in a hurry now. I am afraid someone will see me... the demon is awake now and he is howling. He must be fed. Miss Caitlyn will be his next meal...but he must wait a few days. It will be terrible making him wait. Poor Miss Cait, she doesn't realize..he has seen her, so pretty... touched her, so soft... smelled her, so delicious...and tasted her. He wants to taste more, much more. And he will. She will come to him, John will see to that. She is even looking forward to it..........

So........ The weekend has arrived. You summon John, and he arrives, as you have directed him, at your specified time. He drives up in the black car, windows tinted, quiet as a cat. I love that black car.. so big and so quiet. John knows it, and so he keeps it shined like a piece of jewelry for me. And inside...so much room, so quiet, and cool, and dark. You could lose yourself inside there. Sometimes when I'm...troubled...I have John just drive me around in it. Nowhere special, I tell him, just go. And he does, too, bless his heart. For as long as I want. No questions asked. John has a way about him...puts everyone at ease. Calls everyone, "Sir", or "Ma'am", or "Miss". Never has failed to do that even once in all these years. You, he calls "Miss" in that baratone voice of his, and...like everyone else...you relax right away. No questions, no funny looks. John loves his job and does it better than anyone else. He opens the door in the back, you step in, and the car swallows you up. He zips the interior window down, so you can see him better, and he addresses you. "Anything you need, Miss?" "Mr. Mark said anything, anything at all, so... don't you hesitate for one little minute, okay?" "Sure", you say. "Thanks" You sigh, relax and tip your head back, resting it on the soft, high seat back. That smell you notice? That's leather. You close your eyes and anticipate the hours ahead.  The car pulls up to the hotel, your bags are wisked up to your room, and John tips his cap goodbye to you. "Pleasure, Miss" he says. And the car moves off. I'm right there behind you, as he leaves. "Hiya, Cait!" It half startles you and I appologize. "Oops...sorry. Didn't mean to... Your trip in okay? How'd ya get along with John? Great, isn't he? Need anything? You sure?" I am gushing at you, hardly able to contain myself. You just smile, shrug your shoulders, and nod at my boyish enthusiasm. You can't get a word in edgewise. "Look...here's your key to your room." I produce the huge, brass key from my pocket. It must weigh half a pound. I lower my head and say softly, "It's next to mine, if that's okay. It's all they had..." It's not true, but you believe it. "Oh, sure!" you say with a smile and a little wave of your hand. "No problem." You are totally disarmed now, I can see. You are trusting me more with each passing moment. As we turn and walk into the front door of the huge hotel, I even venture to put my arm around you. You don't seem to mind one bit. You turn your face to me, smiling, as we discuss the plans for the day. I suggest a little shopping...your really ought to have a necklace with your lovely outfit, I observe.... You quickly freshen up a bit in your room. Not necessary, but you do it anyway, just to check out the place. The Plaza is a world unto itself. There is no place like it. The rooms are enormous. There is nothing they haven't thought of. I rap on your door. "Ready?" I ask enthusiastically. "John's gonna take us wherever we wanna go! Okay?." The afternoon passes quickly. We are like little kids. First this store, then that. John is always there, waiting outside for us, to take us to the next store, wherever that may be. Tiffany's... I have elected for you a necklace...silver...a choker. You blush at the cost, but I insist. You smile, and turn your back to me, and hold up your hair, so that I may fasten the clasp. Your are still blushing, and I feel the warmth of it. You turn around to show me how nice it is...the glow in your cheeks is noticeable to everyone in the store. Try as you will, you can't contain your delight. You are still holding your hair up, swishing your hips side to side, looking into my eyes, and smiling. The clerk behind the counter has to chuckle in spite of himself. "Oh, wow!" he says under his breath. I have to look away, I can hardly contain...the demon. "What's wrong?" you ask playfully, moving so that I still have to look at you...your face...your eyes. You move a little closer to me, never suspecting for a moment the turmoil you are creating within me. Your guard is down now...completely. You have accepted me. You are comfortable around me. You feel free to kid with me, joke with me. Even tease me. You are the princess leading the dragon. So vulnerable, and you don't have a clue. Saks is next...your heel has broken...you need a new pair of shoes. You try on several pairs, and settle on the black high heels... the strappy ones. All the clerks are busy, so I have to help you on with them. I sit on the stool in front of you...you lift your knee to help me reach your foot. You dress slides up...I notice it. You can see that I have noticed, but it's okay now...you trust me. "Oops," you say with a coy little smile. Dinner...you love it... you are smiling and asking me all sorts of questions about myself...faster than I can answer. It is you now gushing. I force myself to eat. It is a very fine restaurant, but they don't have what I want... I want you, Miss Cait, and I'm starting to have a hard time...hiding it. The show is fine... you enjoy it enormously. But I am perspiring. You pat my arm and touch my knee throughout the performance. I can hear my pulse in my ears, even over the orchestra. Afterwards, John is there, like always, for us. Right in front of the theater. He always knows exactly when to show up. Back at the hotel...you are completely at ease, now...thanking me for everything. "Want to come in for a little something?" I ask. Poor Miss Cait...you don't give it a second thought. "Do you like champaigne? Yes?" I have room service send up a bottle and glasses. You sit down on the sofa, kick off your new shoes, and take off your earrings. But you leave the necklace on... you like it...and you scamper barefooted and tippy-toed to gleefully look at in the mirror. You can't help but smile...and so do I...but for a different reason. You never heard the door shut.. or the lock click...after the bellman delivered the bottle. The drug makes the champaigne slightly sweeter than usual. It is fast and strong, and it never misses. Like falling into a cloud...or a big ball of cotton. The first glass is enough. Only lasts a short time. I watch as your head falls back against the sofa and the glass starts to slip from your fingers. I lift you up and carry you to the bed...you are light and small in my arms. You are so delicate... you belong to me now, Miss Caitlyn, and I have many more gifts to give you. Special and precious...You won't be able to refuse them...I don't take 'no' for an answer. You'll like them...I know you will.

I take my time undressing you. Each article of clothing, very carefully. Nothing stretched or torn. I watch you breathe, peacefully and quietly... you are asleep. I get the restraints out of my suitcase...nothing leather, or metal...they would chafe your soft skin...but rather white cotton...they are the docking lines from my boat...so strong and thick, they would hold the Queen Mary in a hurricane....they are more than a match for your small frame...you will see that soon...and that is important, that you see that...that it is obvious to you...so that you give up your struggles quickly... and do not injure yourself...so that you may relax and enjoy...fully... the many gifts I have for you. The ropes must hold you very tightly and in the proper position...so that you do not need to move for me...so that you cannot move... so that you will remain innocent and guiltless...and the sin will be all mine...no one will be able to blame you. Your are lying on your back... your wrists are bound together, arms over your head...secured to the bedframe....the position raises your breasts...I see them and I hear the demon scream. I want to take you now, savagely, but I will not allow myself to do so...I spread your legs...tying your ankles to the corners of the bed. You begin to stir...quickly I produce a piece of white satin with which to silence your cries...I slip it between 
your soft, moist lips and tie it behind your head. Your a still wearing the silver choker...I sit down on the bed beside you and gently carress your soft cheeks...your eyes flutter open...and you look around in disbelief. You try to speak, but are unable to so. Sshhhh...relax... its okay. You wriggle and squirm to test the ropes...you must, I know. It excites me to see you try to escape... you are so helpless... so completely naked...so exposed ...so delicate...so very pretty. I must stop and just look at you. It stirs the beast. I move to your bedside, and lower my lips to your ear, and whisper, "I will begin now, Miss Cait." Through the satin, I hear you beg, "No! No! Oh, please! No!" It only excites me more...a fact which I can not hide from you any longer. You are panting...I hear your breath whistle through your nostrils. I just smile and shake my head. You must say that, Cait, I know. I try to reassure you...there will be no pain, Miss Cait...none at all. No hitting, no slapping, no pinching. No objects of any kind...just me...only me. But I will take a long ime...there is so much I want to do...for you...to you. So I will start now...............

(TO BE CONTINUED)