I've gotta tell you - I don't get mind control, I really don't.

I mean, all these stories are all pretty silly wish- fufillment, reflecting most people's desperate pathtic fantasies to dominate others in the only safe non threatening enviorment, that they have, namely - their imaginations! (laughter) Now I'm not picking on you poor clods (male and female) who read this garbage and actually are sad anough to get aroused by it, really I'm not.

Unless the above paragraph describes you to a tee. grin

Nope, It's just that in real life, these things just don't happen. There no way in hell I'd sexually surrender myself to some stupid dildo over the internet. Why? Why in god's name would anyone take that risk ? Hell, you'd have to be a fucking moron to be caught dead even reading, let alone writing stories about some poor smuck humiliating another person sexually, right?

So, the Idea of this whole mind control stuff is embarrassingly juvinal and increadibly stupid waste of anyone's time and energy.

This is why I'm confused about my reaction...

... when She appeared.

In my e-mail box, that is. Now I've HAD cyber sex before. And, I'll amit it, I'd written a handful of... uh... somewhat erotic humiliation stories. (weak smile) But most of my email flings have had the same problem we ALL nebies discover when having sexual "one night stands" on the net...

Cyber sex, for all it's reputation... just It doesn't last.

The THRILL of dangerous and forbiden email lust quickly evaporates within a few weeks and your BOTH find yourself bored with each other, until you eventually just stop writing all together. It's kinda like that feeling you get in real life, when you realize you've rushed into sex before you've built up a regular relationship, and are left with the Casual Sex Blues! (don't worry, I wont burst into song)

Well, that all changed one day when SHE wrote me.

Yeah Her.

There are few people in my life that have inspired the PURE hatred and CONTEMPT I've felt for this woman! It seems no matter WHAT names She'd call me, spit at me, throw on me, or other foul repulsive descriptions through e-mail I can't even bring myself to describe... for SOME ungodly reason I can't even begin to explain...

... I kept writing back to Her.

Every - fucking - time!

This was puzzeling since I generally laugh in people's faces. There's pratically nobodies papper thin bravado I can't destroy in a matter of seconds with a few well placed targets of blistering insight. The more they blow off, the sweeter it is watching them fall! Now, I'm not a people hater, really. These poor dopes are just ASKING for trouble, taking on a gal like me!

So, what's the deal with THIS woman?

I mean, I don't even LIKE the bitch, let alone find Her atractive! That's what's so... weird... why some gal who's makes me so angry could push my buttons so...

The little cunt! I remember when She first wrote I was involved with several "masters" as they insipidly insisted on being called. When She spoke, and I knew instantly She was different. I felt that odd... feeling... you know the one you get, when you,... well...

You know. (embarrassed smile)

Pure magnitism, I guess! (confussed shrug) Only She was a REPELANT magnet, not an atractant believe me!!! I instantly hated Her smug tone, and her arrogently smirking that I'd soon be so hung up over her degredation, that I'd be flooding her email with revealing photos of myself and pathtic declerations of my love for her in endless letters, all of which She'd throw away. This didn't even piss me off, it was so absurd. Yeah, right. Love letters, let alone Pictures??? Good luck sweetie.

Then came her insulting assumtion that I was "into" kitty litter because I wrote about it in a story once. That I was a pathtic little closet dyke because I wrote about that too (okay, I AM a lesbian, but that's neither here nor there!) AND I hated that She snifed out one of my little games of pretending to be other people over the net- and busted me!!! At least I had other email masters I could more easily maniuplate! But She soon realised I wasn't writing Her enough, because I was messing around with other masters, so She promptly made me give up these other masters, and only serve, the bitch!!!

I hated doing that too! Do you know how degrading that was? Hurting those other guys and gals feelings like that, let along how insipid it made ME look. JUST who did this ASSHOLE think She WAS anyways??????

I know, I could have lied right? She really know, would She? I would be the only one who knew I was shiting Her. Only me. She said if I did lie, it would knaw at my gut, drive me crazy, this inner disobedience to Her, or really to myself, (as She'd come to explain)

Okay, just for laughs, I promised She was the only one (blah,blah,blah) and went along my merry way fucking e-mal affairs and "masters" like mad!!! Who CARES if She says I'm only fooling myself if I lie to Her. Who cares if, right after reading Her comments, it brings me to mind numming tears and makes me feel like a little pool of shit!

It's only for that single moment that I'm weak and hate myself, it's not who I really am normaly! I only continue it as a game. She's an amusment, that's all. I'm using Her! Sure, when I'm... a little... er... amused*... I'll agree to ANYTHING. I even bought that instimatic camera She sugested I buy. But I wake up and fight back like mad the next e-mail, provong Her totally fucking WRONG by calling Her every name in the book!!!

And It's NOT a little girl's spoiled tantrum, believe you me!!!!!

Afterwords She'd calmly wait for me to finish during these bouts where I would rear up on my hind quarters and ball Her out, then firmly instruct me how I'd eventually regrets speaking to Her and soon be apologizing through my tear, and condesendingly describe what I would be doing in a few hours to worm my way back into Her good graces. (read: crotch)

She'd next remind me that I was doing all this (writing to Her) volentary,and not coerced,(furthering my embarrasment) and that the harder I fought, the stupider I'd feel eating crow in my next email, especially after I agreed to shove my punishment object inside myself.

Do you know how hard it is to walk around with something up you at work all day? The fantasy is ONE thing, but in real life, it can get you sore, believe you me! It's embarrassing if I don't keep reminding myself that She's really just a puppet, and I'm really the one in charge here! He's just an excuse for me to explore this weird side of myself, right? True, I probably wouldn't have come up with something quite like... this... (shifting uncompfortably in my seat while writing this) up my... er...

Well,Okay,... whoever's Idea it is, mine or Hers...

... is STIL piss me off. (fusterated sigh)

I would FUME over doing exactlly as instruced by this stupid arrogent full of herself bitch, and rush home to soak up every word She dribbeled out. You know what She called me once? Human waste. Can you Image? I just stared at the email for minutes, numbed my her words. What my fingers traveled next is purely irevelant.

The point was, it hurt. Really hurt.

The woman was hurting me, deeply inside. Why did I keep reading and confirming my worthlessness with each email I opened? I wiped my tears defencively as I thew her email in the trash, only to retrive it (as I'd done countless time before) afterword and save it with the others. What inside myself kept me coming back for more, despite my growing rage and anger? Some part of me knew this was a sick relationship. That I was sick for encourging it.

But... as disparaging and insulting She was on my very worth as a person and woman, I inhaled each email from Her like it was PURE oxegen!

Then I wake up next morning, guilt and shame catching up with me, full of self loathing anger for what I'd aloowed myself to sink to, for the woman who was laughing and who I meant nothing to, but for whom was fast becoming the focus of my life.

Then I'd write Her back, sharing my most depraved and lurid sexual fantasies with as much emotional honesty and sincerity as I could, hoping derperately for Her approval, yet strangly more and more sustained by Her cruel emotional insults and condesending jokes about of me than any positive regard!!! I HAD to keep Her aroused or amused, cause if She wasn't turned on, She wasn't happy - and THEN She'd dump me, and I didn't know how I'd survive without Her cruel insight into how worthless I really was and the how Her sick names and hatred of me mirrored my secret feelings!

It's like...

... like, deep down, She knew who I REALLY was. It made me wanna cry with gratitude. And It was like a damned drug, and I only felt warm and compleate when I could feel Her warm brown verbal wast dripping down my head and hugging my naked worthless shoulders and dripping pussy!!!

I took some photos of myself in a drunken haze of lust as a possible surprise present for Her, then became disgusted looking at them afterwords, at the leangthes I'd go, risking these dumb things showing up some day to forever haunt me over a fucking moment of lust for some one I didn't even know. No. It wasn't worth it. My letters would have to sufice. I cried in shame as I masterbated to the pictures of myself, and how low I'd sunken, then burned them and tossed the ashes in the garbage, thankful thatFINALLY I did have some bottom line.