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</div><br/>Marion Blake had never regarded herself as beautiful. Pretty, maybe. Cuddly, definitely. She had never really understood what people found attractive in each other. she'd found herself attracted to both boys and girls at school. Afer her first few attempts at dating girls had branded her as a weirdo amongst her schoolmates, she changed teams and started dating boys instead. It wasn't until she was 18 and in college that she learned the word bisexual. She also learned about bondage, discipline, domination, submission, sadism and masochism. She briefly considered that she might be pansexual, but a bit of research led her to the conclusion that transgender or intersex people really didn't do it for her. She was forced to admit that she liked her partners to be one thing or the other.<br/><br/>But neither her sexuality, nor her less than ideal figure could put off a young man by the name of Gregory Longman, who pursued her relentless, until she gave in and agreed to date him. He was short and skinny, she was medium height and big built, and together they looked like a comedy act. They were both bisexual and some of their friends fond it odd that they settled on a heterosexual relationship. They got married the year they left college and six months later Marion gave birth to a daughter, they named Sophia. Although technically she didn't give birth. To paraphrase The Bard, Sophia was "from<i>her </i>mother's womb untimely ripp'd". Neither seemed ill affected by the C-Section, and Gregory was even wondering about having more children.<br/><br/>But Marion was missing something, something she needed, that the pain of her healing belly and later, breast feeding her teething infant, brought into sharp focus. She needed rough treatment, she needed to be slapped, spanked, tied up, punishes, humiliated, forced to do things she would never normally do. And Gregory was a gentle lover, treating her like a porcelain doll. In the end they were simply incompatible and while they stayed friends, the divorce was a smooth and amicable event.<br/><br/>Marion took up self-bondage, often tying her breasts and using a pulley she installed in the basement of her house to dangle by them, the other end of the rope gripped firmly in both hands so that she could simply let go and be safe.<br/><br/>When Sophia turned 16, Marion decided it was tie to start dating again. She tried internet sites with no luck  and then an online friend mentioned finding her perfect dominant partner at a BDSM club. Marion decided to give it a go and found the nearest club to where she lived. By this time Sophia was away at college, and Marion was keen to spend her evenings doing something other than watching the same repeats on TV over and over.<br/><br/>That was where she met Sandy. She wasn't sure why she chose to sit next to the slender dark-blonde woman at the bar that night, but the younger beauty had grinned at her maliciously, and offered to buy her a drink. They got chatting and...<br/><br/>One thing led to another and now, just over a year later, Marion giggled as she lay on the bed this Friday afternoon wearing a black lace teddy with leather straps that buckled around her waist, breasts, shoulders, hips and thighs, and that had no crotch, revealing her smooth, waxed privates and had holes in the bodice that her big dark brown nipples poked through. Her legs were spread wide, ankles wrapped in leather straps  that were clipped to D-rings on straps attached to the lower corners of the bed. Her wrists were similarly wrapped, but at the moment her left arm only was fastened, while her right was still free. She knew enough about self-bondage to always give herself a way of escape. At least until her fiancée came home. She didn't do this too often, but every once in a while Alessandra would arrive home to find Marion already trussed up and waiting for her. It was just gone two in the afternoon and Marion was expecting her mistress - her owner - to be back soon. The bedroom had a drawer in their shared dresser full of toys and torture implements, but Marion's slave collar lay open, draped across her throat.<br/><br/>She heard the door go. Heard her sweetheart's voice and called "I'm in the bedroom...", whipped the pillow out from under her head and then slapped her wrist against the open caliper on that side of the bed. The D-ring clicked into it and she shuddered at the feeling of helplessness and vulnerability. This was what turned her on. She stifled a moan of anticipation.<i>Come on Sandy, hurry up, I need you to hurt me!</i>