Jugemu

Awesome addition. Looking forward to the next installment.

Yeah, pretending to be a normal couple was never going to work. But living in a world that doesn't understand the Bond yet, it seemed only natural that they would try.

Whoa. That was a lot of very different emotions in very short succession. What an incredible dialogue between Kara and Lana. Absolutely heart-wrenching. In the good way.

A slower chapter in which the seeds of drama are sewn. Chapter 9 “He wants to go to a bar,” I explained, “There's a place we used to go to together before he moved away. I guess he's back in town for the weekend.” “Well, I hope you realize that drinking is out of the question,” Sandra replied, “You've been doing well on your new diet, but we're nowhere near ready to let any alcohol in your system. And if you do go, I'm going to have to come with you. I can't leave you alone with someone who doesn't know about your… condition.” I had expected that. Her trust in me was at an all-time low, after all. “I don't know if you’re planning on eating there, but we'd have to make sure there's something Pet-friendly. And a place to change in case you have an accident...” With everything that had happened over the past few days, I’d hardly given any thought to my social life. In truth, I'd hardly thought about anyone besides the two of us. For a little while, it was like we were the only people in this universe. And I was strangely content with that. Of course it couldn't stay that way. I had friends, and I had family. I couldn't just hide from them, even if I wanted to. Sandra may have been the center of my world at that moment, but sooner or later I would surely start to miss the people from my “old life.” Even so, I was terrified of how they might react after seeing what I had become. Sandra continued, “It's going to be really complicated to do this without explaining our situation.” She looked me in the eyes. “Is there any chance that we can tell him the truth?” “No,” I said without a moment's hesitation, “Gabe wouldn't understand.” “Okay. Does it have to be a bar? A place like Lulu’s would have food and drinks that are okay for you, and they have a private restroom.” Lulu’s was the café where we'd had our first date (in a sense, it was also our last). Gabe would be disappointed if we went there, but the fact was that I didn't really want to go to a bar either. I wasn’t ready to be surrounded by symbols of the adulthood I had lost. “If we’re going out together, we should probably get some more presentable clothes. Which I suppose means we’ll be taking a trip to your apartment.” My apartment. I hadn’t set foot in there for days. When we last left together, there was a sense that we were just “trying out” living together. As such, I hadn't properly moved out yet. The place was still full of various belongings, though I knew I wouldn’t be using most of them anymore. We still hadn't decided what we were going to do about my rent – whether we'd make some arrangement with the landlord or just let it drain my savings until the lease was up. That sort of thing was for Sandra to decide now. I still wasn't sure if I liked being a Pet, but it was nice not to have to worry about things like that. We made a plan to stop by my place on Saturday morning and meet Gabe in the afternoon. Once that was decided we settled back into our nightly routine – dinner was followed by a bath, and then an hour or so of TV before bed. I loved being bathed by her, but always became a little anxious when she removed my collar. Wearing a collar was supposed to be degrading, at least that's what I would've thought before. Now that we were Bonded, nothing could be further from the truth – the collar was a reminder that she had claimed me and that I was hers. I felt that as long as the collar was there, my Keeper would be there too. I didn't like to go long without that reminder. After that night’s bath, I was a little dismayed to see her take out another diaper instead of one of the cloth-like briefs. “I think we'd better save the more expensive ones for when we’re out and about,” she explained, “these are more appropriate for wearing overnight anyway.” I knew there was no point in arguing with her, and I was feeling too relaxed from the bath to try. As before, she laid me down on the floor, lifted my legs up, and slid the new diaper underneath me. But this time I felt something cool and soft on my behind. I caught the unmistakable scent of talcum powder. “I thought this might make you more comfortable,” she said. I tried my hardest not to think about the humiliation of the situation. I tried to just focus on the pleasant things – the feeling of being clean, the nostalgic smell, and Sandra's touch. The touch of this person who did everything for me, who gave me everything I needed. She probably didn't want to change diapers any more than I wanted to wear them. And yet she was making an effort to be as careful and gentle with me as she could. She folded the diaper around me and pulled its tapes closed. And I felt grateful that it was her taking care of me. *** On Saturday morning, we went to my apartment together to retrieve some clothes and other things. Most of the food in my refrigerator needed to be thrown out by that point, and Sandra kept a close eye on me to make sure I didn't sneak myself an unauthorized snack. I selected an outfit for the day, and she helped me get dressed – or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she dressed me. I just stood there passively as she slid the pants up my legs, fastened my belt, and buckled my shirt. No arguments, no assurances that I could do it myself. This was just how our life together was. Stepping back to check her handiwork she asked, “How does that feel?” “It's… a bit warm. And constricting.” “Well, once this is over, we’ll get you home and into something comfy. We should probably be going now.” Before stepping out the door, I took a moment to look over my abandoned apartment. How long would it be until I came here again? *** Sitting in Sandra’s car in the parking lot of Lulu’s, we were both visibly anxious. “I don't like the idea of lying to your brother,” said Sandra, “But if you say he's not ready to know the truth, then I trust you. If you start to feel uncomfortable, just squeeze my hand or something and I'll come up with a reason for us to go.” With that she unfastened my collar, unbuckled my seat belt, and led me by the hand through the parking lot. “Can't have you wandering off somewhere," she said half-jokingly. Only when we reached the entrance did she let go. Gabe was waiting right behind the front doors. “Hey dude!” he shouted before pulling me into a crushing bear hug. He was shorter than me, but more muscular. Whenever he showed affection, he did it in a way that showcased his strength. “Good to see you too,” I replied. “And you are?” he asked, turning to Sandra. “I’m Sandra,” she said stiffly, “I'm… I'm a friend.” The two exchanged a courteous handshake and then we all approached the counter. Sandra ordered for herself and for me – some kind of herbal tea that hopefully wouldn't upset my stomach. Gabe did most of the talking while we sat and sipped our drinks. He caught me up his on his career and social life and I tried to do the same – albeit with some major omissions. He didn't seem to pay much attention to Sandra, and she didn't try to get his attention. She was probably just as uncomfortable as I was. When she excused herself to go to the bathroom, he leaned in close like he was about to tell a secret. “So,” he said, “You guys are obviously more than friends.” “What makes you say that?” I asked in a pathetic attempt to feign innocence. “You were holding hands outside for one thing. And she paid for you and she ordered for you. That is not friend behavior.” “Alright, alright," I said with some exasperation, "We're seeing each other.” "Right. And I'm guessing it was her idea to come here instead of our usual place?” “Yeah.” “I don't know dude,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I mean, it's great that you’re getting some, but it kind of seems like she has you by the balls.” I had no idea how to respond to that. Even when we were pretending to be to normal adults, we couldn't hide the balance of power between the two of us. I was still struggling to think of something to say when she returned. “I just got Dylan here to tell me your secret,” he announced, clearly pleased with himself. Her expression went blank. “Really? You told him everything?” “That we’re dating,” I answered, hoping she would play along. I could just barely see the look of recognition on her face that told me she understood. “Why did you say you were just friends,” Gabe asked, “You ashamed of him or something?” “No, it's not that, I'm just… I get nervous meeting family members.” “I'm not someone you need to be afraid of. So long as you don't fuck with my brother that is.” “I'm only mean to people who deserve it,” she said. It was obvious that she didn't like his tone, and liked keeping quiet about it even less. She was holding herself back for my sake. Gabe was obnoxious, but he’d always had a protective streak. I probably would've been bullied mercilessly at school it weren't for him. I knew that in his mind, “testing” a new partner like this was probably the right thing to do. I should have intervened, but I felt so small between the two of them. All in all, it proved to be a very strange and uncomfortable afternoon. I was grateful when it was over. Once we were back in the car, we both breathed a sigh of relief. “I'm sorry I didn't warn you about him,” I said, “I didn't think he would be that bad.” “No, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just glad to stop pretending. I can go back to being your Keeper and you can go back to being my Pet.” She refastened my collar, and gave me a little scratch behind my ear. All of the tension immediately left my body. I couldn't wait to get home and curl up next to her. That calm did not last, however. Moments later, I heard tapping on the window. When I turned around, there was Gabe, holding my cell phone. “Hey, you left this on the t-“ “...What's that around your neck?”

Trying to do my part ? I am completely hooked on this though. It was so touching how Lana took care of drunk Kara, but it's clear that there will be consequences... And after that reveal about Lana... I know I'm not the only one imagining some kind of switcheroo scenario ?

For anyone still following this story, I think I can refer to this as "the moment you've all been waiting for." ...or maybe just the moment I've been waiting to write ;) Chapter 8 It didn't take long for doubt to set in. Sandra hadn’t been merely forceful with Dylan, she’d been downright violent. She knew she shouldn't treat anyone that way, be they person or Pet. And yet the urge to overpower him had been so strong. The feeling of control it gave her was like a drug. But unlike a drug, the high she was chasing came from within. It was the product of instinct, it was part of her nature. Nevertheless, that didn't mean it was right. She worried about how far she might go the next time. What if she couldn't stop herself from truly hurting him? What if she already had? While she was scolding him, his whole demeanor had changed in an unsettling way. He became slow and passive, and hardly seemed to pay attention to his surroundings. And yet he was responsive enough that she was able to get him cleaned and changed without too much trouble. She had assumed that he was just feeling guilty and sad, but what if she came home to find that he hadn’t snapped out of it? She was forced to confront the reality that she had no idea what she was doing. She had made herself responsible for his well being, but she didn't know how to take care of him. It wasn't something she could just play by ear. She realized that what she’d said to Dylan that morning wasn’t true. She had more than instinct and improvisation to guide her. She had the internet. So down the rabbit hole she went, clicking one link after another until she ended up on a site called Keeper's Corner, the largest (and only) community of Keepers online. In the FAQs section she found articles on all aspects of Pet care – diapers, diet, discipline, even hypnotic conditioning. She found a list of all the various mental and physical changes observed in Pets after bonding. In the discussion forum there was a fierce debate about sexual attraction between Pets and Keepers (good to know she wasn’t the only one). Much of the time that should've been spent working that afternoon was instead spent reading as much as she could. She made a list of things she would need to buy and considered systems of discipline she would need to implement. Her research instilled her with a new feeling of confidence. She could do this. And she could do it right. *** The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of contradictory emotions. I was upset about disappointing Sandra, but excited about being dominated by her. I was afraid of being abandoned, but I was slowly beginning to trust that she wouldn't do such as thing. Strongest of all was my anxiety about what would happen when she came home. I had no idea of what to expect, and that made me uneasy. So much so that when I finally did hear her key turning the lock, I did the most immature, irrational thing imaginable. I hid. I ducked into an unlit room and closed the door behind me, nervous thoughts flooding my brain. “Dylan?” I heard her call, “Are you there? You can come out, it's alright. I'm not mad anymore.” I peered out from behind the door like a shy child. She was standing with her arms outstretched, inviting to come closer. “That's right, come here, Pet. Come to your Keeper.” There was no question of resistance. I approached, but did not return her embrace. Keeping my arms at my sides, I simply let her envelop me. She gently stroked my hair and made little shushing sounds. I found myself thinking that holding someone would never feel as good as being held. To my surprise, I was silently crying. “I’m sorry I was so mean to you earlier,” she said, “Can you forgive me?” “But,” I choked, “I made you upset. I was b-bad!” “You weren't being bad, you were being you. You look the same as any other person, so it's hard for me to remember that you don't have the kind self-control you used to. But you don't, and that's why you need a Keeper. I make the rules, and when you can't follow the rules, it's my job to restrain you.” Something about that last sentence made me uncomfortable, but I didn't ask for details. Instead I voiced the thought that had come to me so many times over the past week. “I'm just a burden, aren’t I?” She was slow to respond. It obviously wasn’t a question she was expecting. “When I took you into my home, I gained new responsibilities. I didn't fully understand what they were at first, I'm not sure I fully understand them now. But I've accepted them. I was meant to take care of you, Dylan. I can't say how or why it happened, but now that you're in my life, I can't imagine living without you.” I was almost relieved by her words, but something was missing. Sure, she had accepted that I was now a part of her life. But did she like having me here? She didn't say anything about that, and I couldn't bring myself to ask. Damn this Pet brain I thought. It had taken my ability to live, work, and even eat like a normal human. Why couldn't it at least make me too dumb to notice an omission like that? We passed the rest of the evening much as we had the evening before, but when night came, she held firmly to her decision that we would sleep in separate rooms. “I don't want you thinking this is some kind of punishment,” she said, “Pets need boundaries as much as they need food, shelter, and affection. Keepers provide those things.” This explanation did little to assuage my dejection. “Have a seat here next to me,” she said, motioning for me to join her on the couch. I obeyed. She placed a hand on my head and guided me down until I was resting in her lap. She ran her fingers through my hair and spoke to me in soothing tones. “I'll be right here until you fall asleep. And then I'll be just there in the other room. We're still together in this home. Our home. You’re mine, and that's not going to change.” I was, as always, helpless against her. With just her words, she could make me feel anything. That was the kind of power she had over me. And maybe that was for the best. *** I awoke to an array of enticing sounds and smells emanating from the kitchen. At some point during the night, Sandra had placed a pillow under my head and thrown a blanket over me, which I’d thrown off in my sleep. Even without any covers, I felt uncomfortably warm. “You’re finally up,” Sandra said cheerfully as I entered the kitchen, “Hungry?” I nodded enthusiastically. It seemed like I was always hungry these days. There was a cold, damp, squishing sensation when I sat down and I realized I had wet myself in my sleep. I wanted to change into something dry, but wasn’t sure how to excuse myself without admitting what I had done. So I decided to endure it until after breakfast. “I've got some good news for you,” Sandra said between mouthfuls of food, “I found a site with recipes made specifically for pets. So you might have some better tasting food to look forward to soon.” “This isn't bad though,” I said truthfully. I actually felt that I was becoming less particular about I ate lately. Food was food, and that was all there was to it. “Are you wet?” she asked. I was a little surprised by the bluntness of her question. “Yeah,” I replied, my face turning red, “I was going to take care of it after breakfast.” “I'll do it,” she said, “There are some new rules I wanted to go over as well.” I immediately thought back to her earlier remark about “restraint.” I didn't like where this was going. After the dishes had been put away, she motioned for me to come into the living room, and I dutifully followed. “Sit,” she said. I dropped to my knees. She seemed impossibly tall from my vantage point on the ground. “Yesterday I understood something for the first time. When we bonded, your mind began to change. Your impulses became stronger, your emotions became more intense, and your self-control became weaker. I can't leave you alone all day and expect you to follow all of my rules. Which means I need to ensure that you can't break them.” She took a large shopping bag down from a shelf and pulled out a long leather strap, which I quickly realized was a leash. “This is going to keep you from getting near anything dangerous or fragile. I've cleared out a 'safe zone' in the living room where you can roam about as you please. That's where I'm going to keep you.” Bending down to my level, she clipped to leash to a loop on my collar. “Now you might get tempted to break free,” she continued, “so I'm going to give you these as well.” She produced a pair of think winter mittens – the kind that essentially rendered your fingers useless. They had drawstrings which she fastened around each of my wrists, ensuring I wouldn’t be able to take them off on my own. “Now that that's out of the way, let's take care of your accident.” I started to get up, but she placed a hand on my shoulder. “No, I want you to lay down on your back for me.” Once I was on my back, she gripped the waistband of the brief. I instinctively lifted up my behind, allowing her to slide off the sodden garment. She reached into the bag one more time and pulled out a pack of disposable wipes, followed by a large, white plastic rectangle. “But that's-“ “Yes, Dylan, it's a diaper. This is what you’re going to wear during the day. It’s more absorbent and about half the price of those other briefs. And nobody's going to see it except for me. I knew you wouldn't be crazy about the idea, but this is not up for discussion.” Knowing there was no point in arguing, I let her get on with the humiliating task. She unfolded the diaper, revealing its large hourglass shape. She then grabbed both of my ankles, raised my legs into the air, and slid the diaper under my behind. I felt a cool, damp wipe gliding across my bottom and smelled a clean, gentle fragrance. I could hear the crinkling of plastic as she lowered me onto the soft, padded surface. She slowly folded the front over me, pressing it flat against my private area. She tucked the left wing underneath me, followed by the right. One by one, the tapes were fastened into place, each one encasing me more tightly. And then it was done. Taking both of my hands, she drew me up into a kneeling position. “There,” she said, patting me on the head, “That's not so bad, is it?” “Umm, Sandra? With these mittens on, I won't be able to, you know… take it off.” “Well, that's kind of the point.” “You mean…” “I don't want you taking your diaper off while I'm out.” “But… why!?” “Because you showed me yesterday that I can’t trust you to keep yourself protected. And I'm not sure you have the coordination to change yourself now. Honestly, I would rather come home to a wet diaper than a wet carpet.” I stared at the ground, unable to say or do anything. Just when I was coming to terms with being a Pet, I was degraded even further. “I’ll repeat what I said last night - this isn't a punishment. But we have to face reality. It's my job to give you what need, and sometimes that means giving your something you don't want.” She continued petting me as she said this. “Show me how good of a pet you can be by trusting me and accepting my decisions. Can you do that for me?” “Yes, Keeper.” It was the first time I had called her anything other than her name. In that moment of ultimate submission, it seemed like the most natural thing to do. “That's a good Pet.” And so I found myself alone in Sandra's home, collared, leashed, and wearing a diaper I couldn't remove. I knew I would have to wet it before the day was through, but that didn't stop me from fighting the inevitable when the urge to go came. I pawed helplessly at the diaper, but it was no use. I couldn't possibly grip the tapes, and it was fastened too tightly for me to wriggle out of it. My mittened hands just slid uselessly over the plastic, and I was forced to accept defeat. Of course, even if I had managed to get the diaper off, there would still be the problem of getting to the bathroom, restrained as I was. But lapses in reasoning had become the norm as late. I supposed being trapped in a wet diaper would now become the norm as well. My sulking was interrupted when I heard the familiar tone of my cell phone, which I had hardly looked at in the past few days. I wouldn't be able to answer with my hands locked away, but I could read the incoming message. It was from my older brother. “Hey! Are you busy Saturday?”

What an interesting take on a human pet scenario. Moira's broken English is very amusing for some reason XD

Wonderful slow burn... I loved the kidnapping scenarios, but I like this approach as well.

Truthfully, that was inspired by a scene from the original Keeperverse story itself - wherein Lana straight up grabs Kara by the throat and pins her against a wall. My understanding/interpretation was that when met with resistance or disobedience, a Keeper's domineering instincts go into overdrive.

Guys, the words of support have really meant a lot. Probably would've dropped this thing otherwise. I feel like I should reassure the reader that DL content is going to become a lot more central very soon. Chapter 7 Dinner that night was a grilled chicken breast with mashed potatoes – presumably the gentlest food Sandra could think of. In spite of its relative blandness, I dug in like it was my first meal in days. In my zeal, I barely noticed the wince of pain that came from my left hand. Looking down, I saw that I had cut one of my fingers with the dinner knife. A small trickle of blood came out and dripped onto the plate. “Oh, you poor thing,” Sandra said, “Let me see.” Taking my hand in hers, she wrapped a napkin around my finger to contain the bleeding. “Does it hurt?” “Not really.” “Well, that’s good. Come on, let's get your patched up.” She led me over to the kitchen sink where she ran my cut under the tap for a few seconds before drying it, applying some antibiotic ointment, and bandaging it. It was honestly more trouble than the injury warranted, but there was something touching about the gesture. She seemed to have accepted accepted that it was her role to keep me safe. Was it really okay for me to start thinking of her in that way? As my protector? As my Keeper? Once we returned to the table, she said “I think you'd better leave the cutting to me from now on.” She removed the knife from my side of the table, and just like that, my cutlery privileges were revoked. It struck me as something of an overreaction. Surely any adult could’ve had an accident like that! You wouldn’t ban someone from a library for giving themselves a papercut. In spite my frustration, I held my tongue and allowed her cut up the rest of my food for me. “We're going to have to find you a proper place to sleep,” she said as she worked the cutlery with a dexterity I could apparently no longer match. My heart sank a little when I heard that. “I assumed we'd, you know, sleep like we did earlier today.” She stopped cutting. “Earlier today… I wish I'd understood our situation better when I came over today. There are certain lines I wouldn't have crossed otherwise. There's a bond between a Keeper and a Pet, but it’s not what you'd call romantic. At least I don't think it is.” Those words stung. We’d become so close in such a short time, and this was the first time she had taken a step away from me. Just like her “house rules,” I understood at once that it was only natural for a pet to have boundaries. But the insatiable desire to be close to her was as strong as ever. “Dylan, you're pouting,” she said. “No I'm not,” I said, which obviously wasn’t true. She let out am exasperated sigh. “Fine, you can stay with me, but only for tonight, ok? We’ll call it a Pet/Keeper bonding ritual.” I didn't even try to hide my elation. We spent the rest of the evening cuddling in front of the TV, talking about each other's lives. I learned more about who she was, and she learned more about who I used to be. The conversation took a distressing turn when I realized I could no longer remember the name of my elementary school. Other details had become faint as well – the address of my childhood home, the names of distant relatives… It was like my old life was fading away. Was this also part of becoming a Pet? How much more would I forget? I chose not to voice those concerns to Sandra. I didn't want her to think I regretted Bonding with her, not on our first night together. True to her word, she showed no intention of doing anything more than cuddle as we settled into bed. She held me from behind as she drifted off. I didn't really mind leaving it at that, but I couldn’t stop myself from becoming aroused at her touch. This in turn brought my attention to my new undergarment. It's just a precaution, I told myself, and hoped that it was true. We had only been in bed for about an hour when I felt the now familiar jolt from my bladder. I didn't want to wake Sandra getting up, but I knew I didn't have much time. I detached myself from her as carefully as I could and stood up. “Dylan?” I heard her say sleepily. “B-bathroom,” I replied. She muttered something incoherent and rolled over. Another spasm from down below spurred me onward. Only after seeing the hallway full of identical doors did I realize that I had never asked which led to the bathroom. Doing my best to clamp down, I began to check them one-by-one. The first was a closet. The second, a study. Doubled over from the aching fullness, I opened the final door to and spotted my objective. Perhaps the relief I felt mentally had spread into the rest of my body - mere moments before I could get the brief and sweatpants off, I lost the struggle. To someone who had never experienced it as an adult, wetting the brief was a strange sensation. I could feel it coming out of me, but it wasn't going anywhere. I just felt my crotch get warmer, and the brief get heavier. Far more acute were the feelings of shame and disgust. I hated that this was part of the deal. I felt like crying, but couldn't bear the thought of becoming any more infantile than I was at that moment. I supposed I should change into a fresh pair, but I wasn’t sure where Sandra had left the package I reasoned that, having just emptied myself, I wouldn't really be at risk of another nighttime accident. Confident that all would be well, I returned to bed. Maybe Sandra doesn’t even need to know about this one, I thought before dozing off again. *** Like the meal that preceded it, breakfast was selected to be as gastrically inoffensive as possible. The bowl of oatmeal that was presented to me wasn’t as nearly appealing as meat and potatoes, but food was food. I would have loved a cup of coffee then, but didn't bother asking. I just meekly accepted a glass of water, finding myself quite thirsty. “Umm, Sandra?” I asked between mouthfuls of oatmeal, “what exactly do Pets do all day?” She mulled over the question. “Whatever you feel like, I guess. I have books, you can watch TV… just as long as you stay in the house.” “Is it really okay for me just be here in your house? And not, you know, contribute anything?” “I haven't really thought that far ahead. It was instinct that drove us to where we are now. Whatever instinct doesn’t tell us we’ll have to figure out for ourselves. But we will figure it out.” She touched my arm gently as she said that. “However you decide to entertain yourself, I’m afraid you're going to have to start now. I've got to get ready for work.” She collected the empty bowls and silverware and dropped them in the sink before heading to the bedroom. I wanted to follow her, to keep talking, to feel her touch again. But I knew I'd only be making myself a nuisance. I wondered if I would ever get enough of her attention. Seeing the dirty tableware in the sink, I decided that I could at least thank her by taking care of that chore. As soon as I got started I began to feel nervous. Every deliberate thing I'd done for the past several days had been a disaster. Surely I’d end up breaking a dish or splashing water everywhere. I focused all of my attention on my hands, making every movement slow and careful. I managed to maintain my coordination until the end, and was strangely proud of myself for if. Shortly thereafter, Sandra reemerged looking like the very image of modern professionalism. “I did the dishes!” I blurted out, and immediately became embarrassed at my childish bid for attention. “Well, what a helpful Pet you are!” she said cheerfully, favoring me with a few scritches. I knew she was just humoring me, but I felt too good to care. “You're going to behave while I'm gone, aren't you?” I nodded. “I'll come by in a few hours to see how you're doing, ok? Be good!” And then she was out the door. What followed was longest, loneliest two hours of my life. I tried channel-surfing on her TV and looking through her Blu-ray collection, but nothing could distract me from the low feeling of being in the house alone. I even thought I might pass the time by sleeping through the rest of the morning. This idea yielded only mixed success. That morning I discovered, to my great relief, that I had more or less maintained control over my bowels. When it came, the need to go was a bit more urgent than I was used to, but there wasn’t any doubt that I would make it to the bathroom in time. Upon entering the bathroom, I remembered that I still hadn’t put on a new brief since the previous night. My first instinct was to go looking for the package right away, but then I reconsidered. The next time I needed to go, the toilet would only be a few feet away - and this time I would know exactly where to go. Maybe I didn't need to surrender this aspect of my adulthood so completely after all. As I was having this internal debate, pangs of hunger started to appear. My appetite had been much stronger lately, and one bowl of oatmeal wasn’t going to cut it. Of course I remembered Sandra’s rule about only eating what she have me, but the signal from my empty stomach was so strong. I decided that if I was careful, I could sneak something out of the kitchen without her noticing. In the fridge I found some deli meats and cheeses. All that was missing was a couple slices of bread. I began rummaging through cabinets, some of which were so high I needed to stand on a chair to reach them. It was on one of these shelves that I found a half-eaten loaf, sitting next to some ceramic dishes and glassware. Propped up on the chair, I reached my hand into the cabinet. But before I could grab it, I was startled by the sound of the telephone ringing. I instinctively lurched backward, causing me to lose my balance. I came crashing to the ground, taking a couple of cups and glasses with me. As soon as I hit the floor, I felt my bladder release, and a warm puddle began pooling around me. It had been downright idiotic of me to think I didn't need some kind of protection. I'd had three accidents in the past two days, after all. I just sat there on floor, listening to the telephone ring and feeling my backside grow warm and wet. Just then, I heard the door opening and I began to panic. Sandra had returned at the worst possible moment. There was no question of hiding what had happened – I was caught. “Dylan?” she called, “Are you being g-“ The instant she saw me she froze. I had been expecting her to fly into a rage, but instead she just looked surprised and sad. “Those glasses were a gift...” she said, “What were you doing up there anyway?” “I was looking for something to eat,” I admitted. “Didn’t I tell you that you could only eat what I gave you?” “I'm sorry.” The dreaded anger finally came. “You’d better be sorry!” she shouted, “You've been in my house one day, and already-“ Only then did she notice the puddle I was sitting in. “Why aren't you wearing the underwear I got you!?” she exclaimed with increasing exasperation. “I d-didn't think I'd n-need it,” I stammered. She then did something completely unexpected. With one high-heeled foot, she pushed me back by my chest, pinning me to the ground. My own urine was soaking into the fabric of my shirt. Towering above me, she said, “It doesn’t matter what you think. You are MINE, do you understand? You belong to ME. That means you will wear what I tell you to wear. You will eat when I allow you to eat. I will command you, and you will OBEY.” Listening to her scold me, a strange thing happened. The fear that had been building up inside me gradually turned into something resembling excitement. Then excitement gave way to arousal. I realized that I wanted to be reminded of her dominion over me. I wanted to submit, to be completely under her control, to be given commands, to be put in my place. The experience of submission overwhelmed my senses. I began to lose awareness of where I was and what was happening. I surrendered myself completely to the moment. And I was no longer afraid. That serenity did not last. When I came back to my senses, I was alone in her living room, naked except for another disposable brief. Sandra must have bathed and changed me while I was zoned out. She hadn’t fed me though. I was starving. But that was only trivial concern. Far more upsetting was the thought that I had once again let the woman I loved down. She had endured so much for me, and I’d been nothing but trouble. What if she decided she no longer wanted me? I didn't ask to become a Pet, but now I couldn't bear the thought of living without her. I dreaded her return, and yearned for it at the same time.

Not sure if anyone remembers this story, but if so, allow me to make up for my absence with a nice long chapter. Chapter Six Sandra did not fall asleep, but looked on contentedly as Dylan drifted off. It occurred to her that this was more or less the same position they’d ended up in on the previous night. How much sleep can one person need? she wondered bemusedly. This thought was interrupted when she noticed a small dark patch on the sheets that was growing rapidly. Realizing what was happening, she slid out of bed before it could get to her. Remarkably, this did not wake him, and she had the strange experience of watching Dylan soak the bed. She had no idea how she should respond to something like that, but knew she probably shouldn't let him stay lying like that for long. She was about to rouse him when she spotted a hamper containing a pair of clearly stained khakis. Her heart began to pound. This is exact what the article said would happen. Did that mean it was all true? Had he really transformed into something not quite human? She knew she had to tell him. Impossible though it seemed, they had to at least consider it – together. She wondered how he would take the news. If he truly was a Pet, he might never be able to take care of himself again. Life as he knew it would be over completely. And what did he get in return? A life with her? She couldn't imagine sacrificing her independence for another person, no matter how much she liked them. But of course she couldn't. She was the Keeper. She gathered the clothes she had discarded earlier and began dressing. Somehow it seemed wrong to have this conversation while they were both naked. Once she was fully clothed, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gently shook him awake. *** I was both horrified and disgusted by the sight I awoke to. Embarrassing myself in front of Sandra had become a distressingly frequent occurrence, but surely this was over the line. “Sandra, I-“ “Shh, it's okay,” she said, holding a finger up to my lips, “I know it was an accident, I'm not mad. Let's just get you clean and into something dry.” There was something so gentle and soothing about her voice. I could listen to her talk like that for hours. Together we took the sheets off of the bed and dropped them in the hamper. Then she stopped and looked me over. “Hmm. You've already had a bath today,” she said. “I don't think you really need another one. I’ll just get the worst of it off you. Come with me.” With that, she led me by the hand into the bathroom. “Now, I want you to stand in the tub for me,” she said. Once I was in position, she ran a washcloth under the faucet and began sponging me down all over my lower body. While I relished the sensation of her touch, there was a notable difference between now and the bath from earlier. “Businesslike” was the best way I could think to describe it. There was nothing special or unusual about her giving me a sponge bath – it was just what she did. “Now that you're all clean, we can get you dressed,” she said. She was so confident and natural in her role that I felt I could completely surrender myself into her care. I didn't protest when she grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from my dresser and held them out for me to step into rather than handing them to me. After pulling them up, she did the same with a new pair of sweatpants (my last clean pair). “Arms up,” she said, holding out a t-shirt and pulling it over me. The experience of being dressed was making me feel incredibly childish, but I found something about it pleasant and relaxing as well. The embarrassment I might have felt a few days ago was beginning to wain. Why would I need feel ashamed of myself if she wasn't ashamed of me? “There. I'll bet that feels better, doesn't it?” “Yeah,” I said, blushing slightly. “Thanks.” “Come have a seat here next to me,” she said, patting a corner of the now bare mattress. “There’s... something we need to talk about.” I didn't like the sound of that. But I sat next to her as she asked. “I think I know what's been happening to us.” “You do? Do I have some kind of disease? Is it curable?” “I wouldn’t call it a disease exactly. Think back to when we first saw each other - we both felt this undeniable sense of connection, right? And then we both started to change. You wouldn't know this about me, but I haven't always been some kind of dominant, caregiving type. I just sort of fell into that role, like you did into yours.” “I didn't understand how a chance meeting could have such a drastic effect. So I started doing some research, and what I found was a story of two people having the same experience as us. And they weren't alone – people all over are starting to bond with complete strangers. And the relationship they form - it's something that humanity has never had a word for until now.” I was fascinated by her words, but also nervous and confused. She took out her phone and held it out to me. I saw several pictures of a couple engaged in what looked like some kind of dom/sub roleplay. In one picture, a woman was wearing a collar, with a leash that was being held by an older man. In another picture she was sitting in a small cage. Was that a diaper she was wearing? “The article refers to this woman as a Pet,” she said, “And that man is her Keeper. They say they didn’t choose to live like this – but they also say that they're happier this way.” I felt my pulse quickening. What I was seeing felt somehow strange and familiar at the same time. “What are you saying?” I asked, “What does all this mean for us?” “I think it means that I'm a Keeper. And you… You’re my pet.” A jolt of electricity shot through me when I heard the word “pet.” It was like a balloon had popped in my brain. “This is going to sound weird,” I said, “But could you say that one more time?” “Say what? That you're my pet?” I was overtaken by an indescribable surge of emotion. I wanted so badly to be close to her, and she had just claimed me as her own. I didn't understand exactly what being a pet meant, but I knew it meant I’d be able to stay by her side. And like any ordinary pet, I had an unbearable urge to nuzzle up against her, to be held by her. Not really knowing what I was doing, I threw my arms around her and buried my face between her neck shoulder. She was obviously startled at first, but she hugged me back, running one hand slowly up and down my spine. “That's right. That's exactly what you are,” she cooed, “You're my pet. My precious, darling pet… …And I'm going to take good care of you.” “So… What happens now?” I asked. “First of all, you’re going to come home with me. Pets don’t work, so your job isn't a problem. If you have any money saved up, we'll use that to pay for your apartment. If that money runs out... Well, we'll worry about that then. But before we do any of that, there's something we need to do. And we’d better do it soon.” I listened on, with some trepidation. “I want you to tell me honestly – you wetting the bed wasn't the only accident you've had, was it?” “No.” I hated having to admit that. “When was the last time?” “This morning.” “Is that what you were at upset about when you called me?” “Yeah,” I muttered quietly. “Right. There’s no easy way to say this, but the problem you're having - it's not going to get better.” “What? How could you know that?” “I read it while I was learning about Pets – it happens to all of them. After bonding, they all develop urinary incontinence.” “That's impossible!” I protested “To get something like that just from meeting someone? It’s like some kind of magical curse.” “I don't know how it happens, but it is happening,” Sandra replied. “I agree that it all seems like a fantasy, but we can see it and feel it for ourselves.” A lump formed in my throat. “Th-this isn't fair!” I said, voice quivering, “I didn't ask for this!” “I know you didn't. And I'm sorry you have to go through it. But it's something neither one of us can change. So we'll just have to manage it.” “Manage?” “Before we go home, we’re going to stop at a store and get you something… absorbent to wear.” I knew what that meant. “No,” I said, “There has to be something else we can do-“ “Dylan, you've had two accidents today alone. Do you really think I'm going to let you go around unprotected after that? Look, I'm not saying you can't use the bathroom – the next time you have to go, if you can make it in time, that's great. We’re just taking precautions.” “I don't have any choice in this, do I?” “No, you don't. Now, seeing as you just went, I don't think you're likely to have another accident soon. But I don't want to push our luck, so we should get going.” I grabbed my phone and keys, and followed her out the door. After I locked the door, she put her hand over mine and took the keyring from me. “I'll be hanging onto these,” she said. I was surprised, but I not exactly upset. It was a potently meaningful gesture - I wouldn't be able to return to my apartment until she allowed me to. The thought of surrendering myself to her so completely was strangely alluring - possibly even arousing? We pulled into the parking lot of a nearby store. There seemed to be quite a lot of activity there. Running this kind of an errand while the place was so busy was downright mortifying. “Can I wait in the car?” I asked. “Don’t be silly, you'll need to be there when we pick something out. Come on.” I kept my head low, wanting more than anything to disappear. The incontinence aisle was strategically placed in a back corner of the store, for which I was grateful. For a moment the two of us just stood there, surveying our options. I noticed that among the various products was a pull-on brief, designed to look and feel like normal underwear. Hoping for a compromise, I pulled a package of my size off the shelf. “H-How about these?” I asked, face slightly red. She looked the package over. “These look pretty thin. I'm really not sure if this is going to be enough…” “But we can at least try them, right?” It felt strange to be negotiating what kind of absorbent underwear I would wear. Stranger still was the knowledge that it wasn't my decision. No matter what I said, Sandra's word would be final. And if today was truly the start of a new life together, that was an idea I’d have to get used to. “I guess so,” she said with audible reluctance, and took the package from me. “Let's go check these out – I want to get them on you as soon as possible.” I had trouble bringing myself to move from where I was standing. I didn't want to stroll through the store with my new “briefs” on display. As if reading my mind, Sandra said, “Honey, nobody is going to know these are for you. They might even think they're for me. Come on.” I tried to look as natural as I could while the clerk rang up our purchase. Sandra paid, of course. I just stood there silently, trying to avoid meeting the gaze of anyone in line. “There should be a public restroom here somewhere,” Sandra said, looking around. “Can’t we do this at home?” I asked. “And risk you leaking in the car? I don't think so. This'll only take a minute.” Praying that nobody was watching, I entered the bathroom with her. She knelt down and began untying my shoes. In a single motion, she pulled down my pants and underwear, which I stepped out of. She left me standing in just my t-shirt while opened the package, revealing several identical gray briefs. They had a cloth-like covering, but inside they looked just like an ordinary diaper. Seeing this made the feelings of humiliation really set in. But there was no way I could avoid going through with this. “In you go,” she said, holding the brief open. I placed one foot in in one hole, then the other. It made a sound like rustling paper. She then slid the brief up my legs until it landed snugly in place around my waist. “There,” she said, “That’s not so bad, is it?” It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but the added bulk would be hard to ignore. It was an embarrassing reminder of the predicament I was in. I wondered whether people outside would notice a bulge in my pants. Sandra helped me back into my clothes and we made our way to the car. “Since you're going to be staying with me, we should establish some rules,” she said as she drove, “You're only allowed to eat the food or drink that I give you. We need to be careful about your diet until we figure out what that tummy of yours can process. I also don't want you leaving the house without me, ok?” “Ok,” I replied sheepishly. I wasn’t expecting to have so many restrictions, but of course these things would be standard for an ordinary pet. “Pet” wasn’t merely a playful term of endearment – I had truly lost my status as a human. I thought of all the things I might never do again – drive a car, drink at a bar, apply for a job. Life as I knew it was over. What if I didn't want to be a pet? It was the first time this thought had occurred to me since she first proposed the idea. It was true that I was hopelessly in love with Sandra, and the thought of spending every day with her made me feel wonderful – but how long would I go on feeling that way? We pulled into a suburban neighborhood with countless rows of identical white buildings. In truth it all looked a bit dull and sterile. Still, it was nicer than anything I could afford. We pulled into her driveway and approached the front door. “Welcome to your new home,” she said, “For now, anyway.” I had to marvel at her homemaking skills – not only was her living room immaculate, it was masterfully decorated. Stylish, modern furniture was augmented by an array of elegant wall hangings and ornaments. Was everything she did this perfect? “There’s something I need to get for you. Wait right here.” She disappeared into another room and came back holding a black leather collar. “After I first read about Pets and Keepers, I felt an urge to get one of these. I wasn’t sure whether I’d ever use it, but it seemed right somehow. I think this will make it feel more official, don't you?” I gulped and looked at the object she was holding. I wanted to wear it. “Kneel,” she said. I obeyed. “That's a good boy,” she said. There was that warm, tingling sensation again. I was beginning to think I’d do anything to hear those words. “When I put this collar on you, you will become my pet. You will obey my commands and live by my rules. In return, I will protect you and provide for you. As long as you are in my home, I will do what I can to make you feel safe, comfortable, and loved. All you need to do is be good and obey your Keeper. Do you understand?” I nodded. She wrapped the collar tightly around my next and fastened it into place. Then she smiled mischievously. “Now you’re mine.”

I'd recommend anything by E.L. Haley. The stories pretty much always feature dominant women, submissive men, and slow, coerced regression.

Yeah, that made me uneasy - I wouldn't consider it OK to force a dog who wasn't comfortable being petted by strangers, for instance. But I'm not surprised that Lana went there - if there's one thing we've learned about her, it's that ANY amount of resistance sets off her domineering instincts. I wonder if we're going to see this issue explored further...

We're definitely getting there! Though maybe I should pick up the pace a bit...

Things get a bit spicy in this one. Chapter 5 I didn't actually remember hitting the snooze button several times, but one look at the alarm clock confirmed that I must have done so. Once the haze of sleepiness cleared, it hit me that I had no more than twenty minutes to be at work. I leapt out of bed and frantically threw on my uniform - no time to shower, no time to shave. I didn't really have time to eat either, but I was so hungry that I knew I wouldn't make it through the morning without some kind of sustenance. I ended up taking a box of cereal to the car, which I ate by the handful while driving. I made it to the front door of the bookstore with exactly three minutes to spare. From behind the checkout counter, the manager regarded me with a sour expression. He adhered to the philosophy that “early is on time, on time is late.” But HR policy didn't allow him to reprimand us as long as we weren't technically tardy. It was the one moment in my life when I was actually grateful for company bureaucracy. “I was wondering where the hell you were,” he grumbled. “It's not like you to show up thirty minutes late without calling.” “But I'm not late!” I protested. “My shift starts at 9am on Saturdays.” “And what day is today?” It was Friday. On Fridays I came in at 8:30. How had I forgotten that? My body language must have signaled that the realization had sunk in. “I've got to go interview an applicant,” he said, “but we'll talk about this later.” As he walked away, I tried to mentally prepare myself for a severe scolding. I’d need to be on my best behavior for the rest of the shift. I had the foreboding thought that this morning’s interviewee might very well become my replacement. My morning went from bad to worse when I felt another spontaneous jolt from my bladder. Only then did I remember that I hadn't been to the bathroom since waking up. Given my recent problems, that was dangerous. I weighed my options. Asking for a break so soon after coming in late was bad, but what choice did I have? I nervously shifted from one foot to the other, trying to distract myself from the hot pressure that kept building inside me. There was a short spasm, and I thought I felt a drop leak into my underwear. That settled it – I had to get to a toilet. I could live with getting chewed out for abandoning the register, but I couldn't bear the alternative. It wasn't a long walk, I could be there in less than a minute. But of course I was too late. A warm, wet feeling spread from my crotch and down my legs. Urine leaked onto the carpet, leaving a noticeable stain. The apron of my uniform hid the damage somewhat, but anyone who looked for more than a few seconds would know what had happened. I stood there stunned, helpless to stop the flow. I bolted towards the exit. From somewhere behind me, I heard a co-worker’s voice exclaim, “Where the hell are you going?” “I – I have to go! I'm sorry!” I shouted, not bothering to turn around. The drive home was a blur. I struggled to see the road through my tears. I heard multiple cars honking along the way, but I didn't have the presence of mind to know why. It was a miracle that didn't encounter any police on the way home. By the time I made it to my apartment, I was thoroughly immersed in self-loathing. I hurried to my bedroom, stripped off my urine-soaked clothes, and put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Then my phone began to ring. It was work, of course. Though it may have ruined any chance I had of keeping my job, I just couldn't bring myself to confront the voice on the other end of the phone. I let it go to voicemail and contemplated what the hell I should do with myself now. I decided that what I needed most was a distraction. I could see about visiting a doctor later to figure out why my bladder was misbehaving, but first I had to calm myself down somehow. I turned on my PlayStation and picked up a controller. But or some reason, it felt strange and unfamiliar in my hands. As the game began, I discovered with growing despair that my muscle memory was almost totally gone. My fingers were slow and clumsy, and I couldn’t make any progress in the level. Even after setting the difficulty embarrassingly low, I just couldn't keep up. In a fit of frustration, I hurled my controller against the console. There was a loud beep and the screen went blank. I began to sob. Why was my life falling apart? Why was I falling apart? Sandra. I wanted Sandra. Sandra could make things better. She could could save me from a complete breakdown. Sure, I was being needy and pathetic. I just couldn't help it. I needed to Sandra like I needed to breathe. No amount of shame could have stopped me from picking up the phone and calling her. “Hey you,” she said cheerfully, “How's it going?” “Not good,” I replied, “I think I just lost my job.” “You what? What happened?” “I don't really want to say, but... Listen, could I... See you? I could really use a friend right now.” “Of course. I'll be at work for at least a few hours, but I can usually leave a little early on Fridays. You just relax and try to take care of yourself until then, okay?” “Ok.” I put down the phone. Her voice had an almost medicinal effect on me. Knowing I was going to see her soon made the day seem a little less horrible. Still, I had the rest of the afternoon to get through. As I peered around the living room looking for things to do, my gaze fell on a beat up cardboard box sitting in a corner. I knew that it was full of old sentimental keepsakes – the kind of thing you never use but can’t bring yourself to throw away. I’d never bothered to unpack and put them away, and I couldn't quite remember what was in there. I tore off the masking tape and began to dig around inside. The first object I produced was a small wooden box with a number of levers that could be slid along grooves etched into the wood. It was a puzzle - if you positioned all the pieces in the right way, the box would open. I used to be able to open it effortlessly, but now the solution eluded me. I spent a few minutes struggling with it before nonchalantly tossing it aside and reaching in for the next item. I ended up spending the next couple of hours that way, pulling one trinket out after another and examining them. A model train, a postcard from Germany, an old action figure. Who had given me all these things? Their faces were all fuzzy now. When I finally got the text telling me that Sandra was on her way over, I could barely contain my excitement. I couldn’t stop myself from checking the window every few minutes to see if a car pulled in. After a painfully long wait, I saw her leave her car and come up the stairs. “Hey,” she said, greeting me with a gentle embrace. I practically melted into her arms. “Thanks for coming,” I said, still holding her. “You sounded so upset over the phone, today must have been really awful for you.” “It was,” I replied. I lingered for a moment, savoring her scent and the warmth of her body. Then she broke off the hug and looked at me blankly. “Um… Dylan?” “Yeah?” “You smell.” An uncomfortable fact came rushing to the surface of my mind. I hadn't even bothered to take a shower before changing into clean clothes. I probably reeked of urine! “I… didn't have time to shower this morning,” I said, which was technically true. “If this is you after missing one shower, I'm a little worried about your lifestyle. Anyway, you've had the whole day. I know you're upset, but I promise you - you'll feel a lot worse if you don't take care of yourself.” “I'm sorry.” “I wasn’t looking for an apology, I just… I wonder what would happen if you didn't have someone checking in on you. Look, it's only been a day and now there are toys all over the floor” I cringed internally at her use of the word “toys.” “But I'm not like this!” I protested, “Not normally, anyway…” She relented. “I'm sorry, I'm sure you don't need someone lecturing you right now. Here’s what's going to happen. I’m going to draw you a bath. You need to get clean and it'll help you relax.” “What are you going to do while I'm in there?” “You don't need to worry about that,” she said and went about her task. I wasn’t sure whether she wanted me to follow her, so I just stood there awkwardly until I heard her beckon me into the bathroom. The tub was full, and she had a look which suggested she was deep in thought. “I don't do this for everyone, you know,” she said. “Do what? Draw a bath?” “Draw a bath, critique your hygiene habits, let you fall asleep in my lap… It's not normal to do these things for someone you met a few days ago. I know it isn't. But for some reason it feels completely natural with you.” “Yeah, I think I might actually know what you mean.” “Something is happening here that neither one of us really understand. It's like there's this force that's pushing me forward and telling me what to do. Somehow I just know you need to be looked after and I just know that I'm the one to do it. And you know what?” “…I don't want to fight it.” Before she finished her sentence, hands were on the hem of my t-shirt. Though I was completely taken off guard, I lifted up my arms and allowed her to pull off my shirt. Scrambling to think of something to say in response, I weakly muttered, “I – I can do this myself.” “I know you can,” she said dismissively. Then she knelt and tugged down my sweatpants in a single, fluid motion. In spite of my shock, I was obviously aroused. “I guess I should have expected that,” she said with a grin, “In you go.” I stepped into the tub and and gently pushed me down until I was in a seated position. She took a bath sponge and began to lightly scrub me all over. Just like she had said, I knew this wasn't normal. But the experience of being bathed by her was nothing short of euphoric. I went into a trance, drinking in all of her attention and affection. I almost didn't notice when she made contact with my now active member. "You like being taken care of, don't you?” she said, caressing my shaft and balls. “You love the feeling of me undressing you, bathing you. That's okay. You can just relax and enjoy.” She gripped me lightly and started stroking. I laid back and closed my eyes, feeling waves of pleasure and desire well up inside me. “That's right. Just relax and let me take care of you.” Her grip and speed increased. The sensation was overwhelming. “It feels good to give in, doesn’t it? Isn't that what you want? To be my good little boy?” Her hand moved faster and harder until I was at the point of now return. I let out a loud moan as my body reached climax and released. Time seemed to stop as one cascade after another coursed through me and out of me. When it was over, she let the water drain out and pulled me to my feet. I was shivering from the drop in temperature. She wrapped one of my towels around me and led me by the hand into the bedroom. I took a step towards her, intent on kissing her, or perhaps helping her out of her clothes myself. “Stop,” she said, putting a hand in front of me. “You may not approach until I give you permission. Do you understand?” I was taken aback by her sudden shift in tone. Confused as I was, I nodded. “Now, sit.” With no chair nearby, I sank to my knees, resting my backside on my heels. “Good boy,” she said with a smirk, and patted my head. Those two simple words filled me with a mixture of humiliation and elation. I'd never given much thought into submissive role-play before, but I sure as hell was into it now. To my surprise, she began undressing in front of me. “I'm going to give you a chance to show your appreciation for the little treat I gave you earlier,” she said as she slowly disrobed, “You had better do a good job, or I might not be so generous next time.” Once she was totally naked, she laid down on the bed. “You may approach,” she said. I understood what she was asking me to do, and I was happy to oblige. The prospect of a future reward was certainly motivating, but more important was the chance to finally do something to please her. For too long it had only been the other way around. With my lips and tongue I explored her, timidly at first. The wetness that resulted welcomed me, invited me to come in further. I continued with increasing fervor, careful not to go too fast too soon. Letting her vocalizations and gyrations guide me, I studied her, tried to learn what gave her the most pleasure. Eventually I felt her whole body tense and release, and I knew I had accomplished my goal. I crawled over to where she was laying. She took me in her arms and cradled my head between her breasts. I’d never felt so ecstatic in my life. In a single evening she had brought me from the pit of despair to the peak of human happiness. And I loved her for it. I loved her with an intensity I never knew was possible. These were the thoughts which occupied my mind as I dozed off in her arms. The first thing I saw upon opening my eyes was Sandra standing in front of me, fully clothed. And the bed was wet.