...there is *PAIN*.  That is why the mental equilibrium feels so satisfying; enticing.  

The ‘shrooms shattered it.  Now I see things in very stark shades of truth; with perceptual embellishments that strive to seduce comprehension.

Mistress rather peremptorily decided that She will travel today all alone.  Notwithstanding Her admonishments of, “No wearing heels with your back,”!, it might have been...

*a* ...wherein She made a pragmatic decision owing to my current spate of back pain; or

*B*  ...I recall last night, wherein She was stroking my stocking-covered thigh, clearly mocking the way the garter was on display despite my boi jeans over top.  The feeling was electric; her attention deliciously highlighted by my state of medicated arousal.  Bliss.  I digress.  Mistress was chatting with Her friend about a drag performance upcoming on Saturday night and speculating about whether we might dress ensemble as maids.  

There was a feeling last night, as I sat swooning in a happy drugged daze, that I recognized.  I was ready:  take me, use me, make me perform for pleasure.  Put a cock in one end; watch me grow both docile and aroused.  Stick a cock in the other end; make me grow tame and obedient.  Own me.

It is with a passing shiver of melancholy that I acknowledge Mistress’ bum deal.  Alas, we are both deeply submissive; traits which did as much as anything to make us compatible.  The allure, I suspect, was the knowledge that neither would pose an existential risk to the other.  The deep irony, to be sure, is that I am bent of a sort of self-destruction, in part because I feel safe enough to risk it.

If She were not so relentlessly considerate, Mistress would admit that the current state of  ...