“How come Ella knows who I am?” “Does she? Yeah, I guess she does. She used your name, didn’t she? Maybe she’d talked to the others in the house. They might have mentioned you. You’ve been quite a regular visitor the last few weeks. She moved in a couple of weeks ago. Her bedroom’s down on the first floor.” “I’ve not met her before.” “Well, she keeps real irregular hours.” Fatima lowered herself onto the mattress next to Freddy and placed a hand on his thigh, emboldened by the fact that he didn’t push her hand to one side. “She’s got to know you pretty well, hasn’t she?” Freddy smiled. This was obviously something that rather pleased him. “Yeah. She has, hasn’t she?” Fatima idly stroked the hairs of Freddy’s thigh, wondering whether she would ever get to know that prick of his again. It was tempting, lying there, even inert and exhausted. She wondered whether she could just lean over. Pinch it. Perhaps suck it. Bring it back to life. “Is she your girlfriend, Freddy?” she asked. I'm embarrassed to reply. I wanted to say no, but the truth was yes. I did expect him to be okay. He was older, more experienced. He had other submissives just eager to be pleased by him. Yet he, he took the time and money out to see me to a safe place. He worried about me. I felt guilty. "I'm your Master." He stated. "And right now Master is very angry at his submissive for lying to him and cutting him off. Do you understand that?" Silence. I knew what was coming. Well, fuck it, I really didn't know what was coming except for pain. What kind of pain I didn't know. "Do you understand?" "Yes." Yes what?"Yes Master." He was into speech restriction, eye contact restriction, everything I did naturally. I was an 'easy' submissive, save for one thing: my weight. I saw his ads for a petite submissive. It drove me nuts. I starved myself just for him. I ended up gaining the weight back. I had asked him for help and it was the same-old, same-old: don't eat processed food, don't drink soda and.
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