How right it is.Some time went by before I actually started dressing. I can still rememberthe breathless thrill of packages arriving, the first time I...walked inheels, the first time I shaved my legs, my first attempts at make-up. Butstill, I never had any desire to meet. Sure, as a fantasy, but not forreal. I'd be too scared, too self-conscious to ever actually go throughwith it. Too scared of where it might eventually lead once I did genuinelysub to another. My fantasies were dark...being. ’ I ask you, who was the hypocrite — me or him. I didn’t much enjoy being fucked in the arse so I made sure he paid double for his pleasures. On our second night on the road at an inn in a town I was told was called Bawtry, before supper I espied Oswine sitting by the fire, a jug of ale on the table in front of him. Taking pity on him, I decided that I might be able to give him some relief from his melancholy. I slipped onto the bench beside him and laying my head on his shoulder, whispered in. More

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