The Dancing Ritual Of Love

I had to call him Sir and talk politely. It was difficult at first and frankly it seemed silly. It felt like I was roleplaying someone he wanted me to be.He began texting me naughty pictures at work. They were usually of women who appeared to be living fulltime as slaves. If they didn’t live it full time it was certainly a big part of their lives. I remember one of the pictures he texted me that profoundly affected me. She was no model by the look of her. She was a pregnant woman handcuffed on her kitchen sink, with her legs bound like she was going to be served as a Turkey Dinner. The wistful look of total surrender and submission to her husband in her doe-eyes, really spoke to me.Mike’s interest included pain. I didn’t like pain but it seemed like the price I had to pay in order to play our bondage games. He spanked me, pulled my tits, choke-fucked me, butt-fucked me and started making me wear a plug to stretch my asshole almost all of the time. It was uncomfortable but I endured. " Hmm. Want any breakfast? I'll make you an egg or something?"But my stomach was doing somersaults in my body at the mere thought offood, "No. I'm starving, but the thought of food is not sitting well."Kari stepped over to me to feel my forehead and that's when we bothnoticed it: Kari and I were looking eye to eye. I had always been 3inches taller. "Now, that's weird," she said, "are we the same height?Are you sure you are ok?" Yeah, except for the nausea, I feel fine." I'm calling the doctor," said Kari as she picked up the phone."Kari, no, please," I said, both a little embarrassed that I would haveto tell the doctor I'd shrunk a little and not wanting to spend abeautiful summer day in a doctor's office. "Come on, let's havebreakfast and relax. I'm sure I'm fine. If anything else happens, we cancall then, ok?"Kari seemed to understand my feelings immediately (maybe those hormonesmaking her so empathetic) and she put down the phone and patted my face."Ok, Davey, whatever you.
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