Page 33 of Casey

“Good boy.” Preston kissed my head, and his hand slowly caressed down my back, dipping lower toward my ass. On all the other strokes, he’d started back up before he’d gone that low, but that time, his hand ran over my ass and gave it a squeeze. “You’re going to use your safewords whenever you need them. Even if we’re just cuddling and I ask you something too hard to answer, I want you to use your safewords. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Shit.

The word just slipped out. Something about the way he was holding me and the firm tone in his voice made me feel safe and protected. Preston’s hand kneaded one cheek, and he kissed my head again. “My good boy.”

I was his.

I was his boy.

This really is a bad idea, but I’m getting tired of the emails and comments. That probably means I should lay down the law and draw my line in the sand and threaten everyone…but you know me better than that.

So I give up.

You won.

I’m beaten down.

You’ve turned me to the dark side.

I started another blog. I’ll put the link in the comments because I’m going to do my best to keep it private from this one. So no comments about this blog on that site and absolutely no comments about who I am or ANYTHING. The picture site comes down the first time someone says anything that remotely outs me!

I will not go in to work on Monday with everyone having seen me in panties!

I’m serious about this.

God, I need a drink. You people are trying to kill me.

Five months, two weeks until first date