His green eyes were burning a hole through me; I knew it was a matter of time before I would be getting my just desserts. He got up and began taking off his shirt, nothing more. We sat in his library, and the scent of leather bound books was intoxicating. I wish sometimes that I could just take over his life, flip the roles and make him my doormat.

"Come over here, suck my cock like the stupid cunt you are, and crawl on all fours like the bitch in heat you are..." Any other day I would have obeyed and did exactly as he said, never to deviate in any way shape or form... but today I'm feeling just a little rebellious. Beyond the south wall of the massive library was a secret room he called his "Game Room." He told me that one day he would let me inside, but I would have to succumb to total submission, never questioning his demands or motives for whatever order he chose, no matter how out there it seemed. I was drooling at what lay beyond that wall. I crawled exactly as he told me to as slowly as humanly possible, almost like a snail.

"Bitch, if you walked any slower you'd be standing still, pick up the pace!" I didn't pick up the pace, I wanted to defy him.

"But...I'm tired." I knew that would get him.

"That's it, stand up." All manner of pleasurable pain raced through my mind.

He walked towards me taking the cane and whipping my butt cheeks with one hand and pointing to the leather chair with the other. That first crack always seems to be the best, just like the first sip of coffee. I wish I could afford a therapist that could somehow help me to work through my issues, and delve deeply into the why of my need for pain. Maybe one day. I could secretly videotape our little get together, and then confront his rich ass daddy, and hopefully barter said videotapes for a set amount of money. Let's see, his reputation should be worth at least five or ten grand, maybe more. If I throw an underage looking girl into the mix, I could extort more even.