Cult

We met through mutual friends at one of the local clubs and ended up copulating hours later in a rubber sheathed, cum-lubricated, writhing mass. I figured he was just another fetishist like me, wired so that his individuality had to be stripped away through the application of expensive latex garments and role playing. I soon discovered there was more to it than that for Xan. I’m stronger than most women I know. Most men too. I’ve never understood why people always choose me to glom onto–maybe because I don’t say much. Maybe because I listen and understand what people say to me. You never realize how rare an ability that is in the world until you’re looking for it yourself. But Xan sure was looking for it, and the things he wanted someone to understand weren’t the type of things you brought up even within the confines of a fetish club. So, after nine months of courtship, he took me into his dungeon to tell me. ...