Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 This is for that one special Man...who may or may not ever see it.  Some
things never change.  There really aren't any story codes for this, as it
is more a note than a story.  If you have any comments, please feel free to
direct them to fanta_moon@yahoo.com.

   I present, for your consideration, What I Didn't Know:



   What I didn't know, I learned years later.  Learned through yearning,
painful, unfulfilled desire.  Desire for you.  Your hands.  Your touch. 
Your mind and the way your thoughts would define my limits.

   What I didn't know, was that I was young.  Too young to appreciate you,
your twisted way of seeing the world, your beautiful nastiness in the
bedroom and outside of it.

   What I didn't know, was that I would still crave you, years later.  Your
weight pinning me to the bed, the floor, the wall, the ground outside.  The
feel of your fingers, toys, forbidden imaginative impulses seeking inside
me; pleasurable/painful stretching of the walls of my pussy, your quaking
cunt.  The taste of your cock, perpetually hard, leaking what felt like
gallons of pre-cum down your slut's throat.  The testosterone scent of your
ball sack drapped across my face while you twisted, stretched, pulled the
flesh left to your less-than-tender mercies.

   What I didn't know was that the panic at the thought of being handcuffed
to your side would have disappeared, had I offered up my small wrist to
your metal shackles...and disappeared from the everyday world.

   What I didn't know was that your voice, whether powerfully demanding
immediate obedience or whispering your slyly seductive directions, would
follow me into each of the nightly, slick, perspiration-covered dreams to
come.  That the memory would leave my pierced nipples tight with burning
need, my throat tight with holding back a moan, the reckless desire to cry
out, to scream your name while laying in bed with another man.  To beg for
your hand, hard, against the ass you loved so well and so deeply.

   What I didn't know was that each time I cum in my sleep, it would be
your face I see, your voice demanding my cum, your cock, your hand, your
toy burying itself in the soft folds of this cunt I carry for you.

   What I didn't know was that when I begged to be your slut, I gave you
access to the secret reaches of my mind and soul.

   What I didn't know was that I couldn't take it back, that when our years
together were over I would remain yours.  A craven, lust-filled toy, packed
back upon the shelf--through my own doing; my own doing.

   I didn't know.
   I didn't know.