We have not known each other long, but already you are most definitely my Mistress. As for me? Well, I'm so proud to be your sub. (And from time to time, I am also pleased to be your slutty little wicked anal angel too).

I'm in the room that I love most in your apartment, the library, with its rows and rows of books and the walls, hung with beautiful prints. Of course, I love your bedroom too, or indeed any room where you love me and let me love you in return.

It is late afternoon, and in the quiet of the apartment, your voice rings out. You are calling me to your room. Once I used to fear admonishment, but now I understand you better. I know that you want to help me, to guide and teach me.

So that our understanding of each other grows and grows. My overwhelming need for your love will always be my guide.

Your door is ajar. Walking in, I close it softly behind me. You are seated at your table. Turning towards me and with a warm and reassuring smile, you tell me that I am to accompany you to a party.

God... I'm so pleased, I love going out to places with you.

You take my hand and lead me to your bed. You tell me to undress completely and to lie down on my left side, facing the wall, and with my right knee drawn up to my chin. I hear you open a drawer behind me. This is something new. You have never asked me to do this before.

"You are going to absolutely love this Suzy!"

These days I no longer fear what might happen to me when I am with you. You are always dreaming up ever wickeder ways to love me. Sometimes your evil ways can be quite painful, but it's okay coz you comfort me afterwards in such beautiful ways.

Now I am feeling something slippery pressing against my pussy, parting my lips. Something smooth and cold is being slid into me. There is a pause, and the same feeling is repeated, another cold, smooth object slips into my vagina. I hardly dare think what exactly you have put inside me.

"Okay Suzy, you can stand up now. Come and stand by the mirror."

I look at my reflection. I can see you behind me, holding your phone. You are tapping the screen and then all of a sudden I feel trembling deep inside me. I let out a cry. What is this?

"Yes Suzy, my wicked slut, remote-controlled Ben Wa balls. All controlled from my phone. This is going to be such fun for both of us!"

You let out your wicked laugh and touch your phone again. The trembling grows stronger. I realise that it would be so easy to come like this. I'm beginning to move my hips a little and squeeze my legs together. Another tap and the sensation stops.

"Good. Now, let's get you dressed, and we can be on our way." Saying this, you open a drawer and take out a big square box.

"Here you are, Suzy. This is for you to wear tonight."

Inside the tissue paper is a bright red jersey dress. The fabric is beautifully delicate and smooth and soft. I can't imagine how much it would have cost. I hold it up against me and run to the mirror. It's absolutely lovely. I'm about to ask if I'm to wear anything beneath, but of course, I already know the answer.

I pull the soft fabric over my head and smooth it against my bare skin. Not backless, no plunging neckline, just a round neck, and no ornamentation. It is utterly simple and quite beautiful. (Body-conscious would be an understatement). The hem was probably designed to finish just above the knee, but with my giraffe's legs, the pencil skirt finishes mid-thigh.

The dress is beyond gorgeous! I can't help flinging my arms around your neck and kissing and kissing you.

You disappear briefly from the room and return wearing a trouser suit in very dark grey silk. The look would be quite severe, but your jacket fastens so that it hangs slightly open a couple of inches all the way down from your neck to your lovely navel. An uninterrupted vertical streak of gleaming golden skin shines through the subdued tones of your jacket. Oh my God, my Mistress!

"Let's go." You pat my bottom and walk out of the bedroom.

I run after you and down the steps across the lobby. I ignore the sour-puss concierge and step out through the big doors. There is a warm wind blowing leaves down the street. I really love it when we go out together. I squeeze your arm. Your response is an almighty throb from your vibe balls, deep within my (and your) secret place. We are both still laughing as we climb into the taxi.

We cross the river and drive deep into the countryside. I do wonder where we are going, I am filled instead with such a warm glow (and of course the two vibe balls.)

The taxi turns off the main road, and I see a long driveway ahead. A big mansion house appears with windows brightly lit. We walk across the gravel (it's at times like this I wish you would let me wear shoes sometimes.)

Huge doors are opened from within, and you lead me into the magnificent hallway. My eyes and ears are filled with such wonderful sights and sounds. Elegantly dressed women talk in groups and girls. Many, much younger than me, dance together. The only men I can see are uniformed waiters carrying trays of champagne. A band plays somewhere above us.

I feel as if I have just walked into Marie Antoinette's ballroom.

You are beside me, guiding me forward. With practised ease, you take two glasses of champagne from a tray, pass one to me and with your hand in the small of my back, guide me into another huge room.

Everyone seems to know you. There are nods and smiles and even a curtsey! (I never knew people still did that.) I am delighted. You propel me to a small group of women and make the introductions. You stand with one hand in your jacket pocket. Your pose looks elegant and casual, but I know that your phone is in your hand, controlling my body, controlling me.

The conversation moves along the usual predictable lines. You say very little, I notice. Someone mentions the champagne glasses. Apparently, they are not the typical champagne flutes but traditional champagne saucers.

One of our little group says, "These glasses are a limited edition, modelled to perfectly cup Kate Moss's left breast." I comment that it's a good thing that they weren't modelled on mine otherwise we'd all be going home sober. Thankfully, everybody laughs, and I feel you send a big throb of approval into my pussy.

God, I am so blissfully happy. The throb settles into a steady pulse and then stronger still. I turn to look at you imploringly. I'm silently begging that you don't make me come right now... Right here!

You indulge me, and now the pulsations have settled into rhythmic, beautiful waves.

We move on and climb the stairs. The excitement and the champagne have made me oblivious to the fact that those below have a clear view of the joining of my thighs.

There's music and dancing here. You sweep me on to the dance floor, and we join the others. I love watching you dance, so elegant and so free. You get quickly lost in the music. I feel so proud.

I'm spontaneous, but I'm clumsy in my bare feet. Though who could hold it against me? Utterly abandoned and gloriously happy, I'm aware of faces turned towards us, but this is OUR time!

My Mistress and I own this time... This place! My lovely dress rides up. I smooth it back down.

The band takes a break. You tell me to look after myself for a few minutes while you talk to a colleague. I swap my empty glass for a full one (thanks again Ms Moss), and I move confidently through the room.

I hear a low voice and turn around. A tall and elegant woman is whispering to me in a subdued intimate voice as if she already knows me. I sense danger and move away. She follows me.

"Your Mistress has asked me to take care of you, Suzy." Saying this, she takes my hand and leads me through a door into a narrow corridor. Her voice continues in its weird hypnotic drone. I'm unsure, but maybe this is some kind of test you have designed for me.

"I am your hostess Suzy. You are at my party now!"

There is something threatening hiding in her voice. The woman pushes open a side door and leads me into the garden. I know that you would never put me in harm's way or hurt or humiliate me, but this is becoming increasingly troubling.

We walk together across the wet grass, it feels good under my bare feet. Meanwhile, the throbbing continues in waves deep within me. Now I think this could all be part of a wicked plan of yours. We move away from the lights, and then I see other women - waiting in the shadows.

"This, ladies, is the famous Suzy."

That doesn't sound good at all. It all happens in an instant. Suddenly from nowhere, hands grab my wrists and other hands wrench and rip my dress, pulling it up and over my head and flinging it into the bushes, my beautiful red dress!

In all the confusion and adrenalin, it suddenly comes home to me, this is your doing, a strategy to take me to the very limits. I decide to submit and let fate take its course, knowing that it pleases you.

All eyes are on my naked body, drilling into every part of me. My wrists are held tightly behind my back and, Sweet Jesus, your vibe balls start delivering ever stronger vibrations.

This is more than I want or need, but your voice in my head tells me that it's exactly what I want and need. This is what I truly crave.

More and more powerful vibrations are pushing me closer to the edge. I can feel rivulets of my liquid running down my thighs. Now, and so suddenly, the orgasm rushes towards me.

My back arches back and I jerk with the spasms. The aftermath eventually fades. I think, 'Thank God they've had their fun. They have had their way with me. Now they will leave me alone.'

But the vibrations continue unabated, I can even hear the balls clacking together deep inside me.

The rush... The climax...

Oh - for pity's sake!

Again and again. I slump to my knees on the grass. Someone is holding my head up so they can watch my face, lick my face. They force kisses on my mouth, wiping their juices on me, again... Again...

They must be passing the phone from one to the other, passing me from one to another. I am beginning to lose my reason, my body jerks and shudders again, I am powerless to resist. I can hardly see through my tears.

I have no idea how long they continued to torment me, how many times these women tore orgasm after orgasm from my body. My throat was becoming hoarse from screaming. 

They pull me to the ground and force my face down on the grass. Hands are parting me, opening me. Oh, Jesus. Please make it stop!

I must be becoming delirious because I think I can hear your voice. 

Then it stops. The vibrations stop! Complete stillness.

I lie on the wet grass crying uncontrollably. My body is drenched in sweat, my matted hair clinging to my face. I feel your hand on my shoulder, stroking my hair.

"My good girl. Suzy, I am so proud of you, you did so well."

I remember that you wrapped me in a blanket and carried me across the lawn, away from the house.

Now, as if in a trance, I am aware of being led from a taxi to your home. I cling tightly to your arm, my face buried in your shoulder.

You lead me slowly and gently into your home, into your bathroom. A single candle is burning there, but I keep my eyes tightly closed. With infinite care, you wipe away my tear stains, the long salt-streaks mixed with mascara and saliva. Now I can feel you tenderly kiss my face, your soft kind lips barely touching my skin.

You lift me up bodily and carry me in your arms to the bedroom, as one would a wounded animal.

I am lowered, oh so gently, on to your bed. But I do not feel the touch of your cool white sheets as they envelop my bruised and aching body, for I am already sound asleep.

It was a long time before I was able to even begin to think about that night. But you have been so patient, so kind, so loving. With your care and understanding and trust, I've learned to move on. We've even had a gentle (oh so gentle) session with vibe balls!

That's how much you have cared for me!

That's how much you have loved me!