The stories were most frequent at bedtime, and resulted in my masturbating nearly every night.The stories were most frequent at bedtime, and resulted in my masturbating nearly every night. Then, more and more, the story was just about me and a man - but in a way that I had never been with a man. I contacted more bulletin boards, during this time, and began to chat with men by electronic mail about different types of sex. The beauty of it was that I was able to delve into many types of sex which, normally, I would have been afraid to talk about. Many of the new things interested me not at all. I had no desire to wear high leather boots and tan a man's ass with a riding crop. And as for the women, I doubted that anyone would turn me on more than Paula did - and I KNEW her and CARED about her, so why look for someone else? But over and over, I got little peeks at the world of domination of the female by the male, and that began to prey on my mind. I spoke to a woman on a board up in Westchester who was a "slave" (her word!) to a man she called "My Master". When I first heard those terms, I didn't like the idea at all. I had no intention of giving up my independence and my freedom to a man I didn't even know! She praised the life she led - told me it was the most exciting and joyful she had ever been. I couldn't believe her. But then, I met another woman on a local board in New York City who was delighted to be completely controlled by her lover - not only ordered around, but forced to wear very revealing outfits and fetish clothes and to play with herself (and with him!) at his order and under his direction. As I spoke with her, I found myself getting strangely excited. I began to see that one of the problems with being a very tall and good-looking woman is that men tend to be a little less demanding of one. They're a little in awe, I guess, at their luck in attracting such a woman - or they want to make damn sure not to lose her, so they give in more to her desires. The problem with that, I realized (now that I began to tell the truth to myself) was that I wanted to be told what to do - particularly sexually. The more I spoke to these two, the more I envied what they had. I wanted to serve a man. I wanted to see what it was like to do exactly what my lover (my master?) wanted - to be treated like a toy made expressly for his pleasure. As I told the truth to myself, I began to be more comfortable telling it over the computer lines. |