My father hurt him you know. He had to go to hospital and have stitches and all. There was blood all over him. Bernardo was too late to stop my father...from beating him. Then he came back, later, to try to heal the broken friendship. Do you know? He knelt in front of father and begged his forgiveness, took all the blame, said he had seduced me and he was mortified. He would pay any penance, he had no pride then. How could he do that for me when he hadn’t even seen me naked? Don’t you understand.. Bumps and bruises aside, I truly was thriving in this way of life … I had found my submissive side and was flourishing beneath my self-induced training. Not only was I submissive, but I was finding more in common with those that called themselves slaves. This was a new kind of submission … something deeper, more inane and it appealed to the very core of me. Natural order and being at the feet of strong men … these whispered my name even when I was busy being “happy” under the collar of my. More

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