by Marilyn S
That is such a weird thing to want!
Tuesday, April 18, 2000
I got to use Kendal just now! I was going to rub myself while I picked a favourite picture from each magazine and put them all over the bathroom floor before I used Kendal, but I took too long and she came and knocked on the door and told me to hurry up, she didn’t have all night. I love that she knows exactly what I am doing in there and can even hear me. And that she controls when I masturbate.
Wednesday, April 19, 2000
I am going to bring Mrs Baker to Mom’s for an Easter lunch. I even asked Mrs Barnabas, just to make sure I am allowed to go out on Sunday. So far she usually lets me do whatever I want on Sundays, but I thought I should ask.
I wonder why I like asking permission to do normal things.
I was just humping and it felt like I was getting really close to coming but I just could not do it. I was pretending she catches me smelling her panties and gets really angry and tells me I am never permitted to even rub myself without her permission for the rest of my life. And they put a one-way mirror between our bedrooms so they could watch me do it and I would never have any privacy. I felt like if I could just think of something bad enough I might be able to come so then I pretended she starved me until I was so hungry that I was willing to suck milk from her boobs and was never allowed any other food. It was Soo hot but now my hoo-hoo is pretty sore.
G_d, what if she ever read this?
Oh my G_d I just figured something out!
Oh you bitch! Oh you freaking
Oh G_d!
Thursday, April 20, 2000
How dare you read my diary!
Friday, April 21, 2000
Saturday, April 22, 2000
Sunday, April 23, 2000
It's okay.
May I please make you tea tomorrow?
Monday, April 24, 2000
Tuesday, April 25, 2000
I am supposed to start writing this diary again, but I don’t see how I can. Like just pretend that you are not reading every word? How can I be completely honest the way I used to be now that I know you are going to be reading it. The whole point of this diary was to express things I could not tell anyone. I still feel as if I have been raped.
Fine, I will try. Wednesday night I suddenly realized that the reason you she knows everything about me is because she must be reading this diary. I wanted to go right over there and hit her with it or start screaming at her through the wall. I kept thinking of all the things I have said here and just wanted to die knowing that someone had read them. It was like my worst nightmare come true. Really. It was like the nightmares where I suddenly realize I don’t have any clothes on. I feel so totally violated.
I don’t think I slept at all that night and I was such a mess at work that I left early. I wanted to write how I felt in my diary – I have found it so comforting to write down things when I am upset – but now it was ruined. That’s when I wrote “How dare you read my diary!” and left it open on the table and went to my parents and stayed there all weekend.
I was totally hating her all weekend. I cried a lot but managed to keep it together in front of mom and dad. Mom asked me what was wrong but I told her I was fine. I just kept thinking of all the things she had read and what she must think. I felt so betrayed.
Late Saturday night I was still going over and over it and I had been thinking how long it had been going on and figured it must have been almost from as soon as she moved in. I had this ah-hah moment where I realized that was why she was always smirking like she knew something about me. She probably got a key from Mrs Baker. But then I started to think, if she was reading all that stuff how could she have been so nice to me? Well, if you call it nice. But it was nice. I mean, I did really enjoy most of the things she did to me. And she might not have known that I wanted them if she had not read all the crazy things I wrote. Then I started wondering if she was just a normal person – well, almost normal at least – who was just doing what my diary said I wanted. I don’t think that is entirely true because it is not like I actually knew what I wanted, but I kept having this saying in my head that my Aunt Michelle used to say: “Your family are the people who know you the best including all your faults, and love you anyway.” I mean, she must think I am truly mental but she still lets me look at dirty magazines in her bathroom.
That was the point I got to where I realized that if I wanted to, I could have that feeling of gratitude for her and go back to the way it was or I could just continue to hate her. I thought about that for a long time. I mean, she deserves to be hated for what she did, but then it also seemed so nice of her too, I guess, to know me so well including all my most disgusting, darkest faults and, well not love me – I don’t think she loves me – but she accepts me. That is kind of huge. I mean, the whole reason I don’t want anyone to know that stuff is because I think they will think I am the most disgusting person ever. She must think I am pretty disgusting and stupid and pathetic, but she seems to accept it all and, well, not mind if I masturbate in her bathroom looking a dirty magazines.
So I chose gratitude. It's like that switch that flips in my head, but this time I consciously decided which way I wanted it to go and it worked. It was not easy. I had to think of all the things I had to be grateful for. What finally did it was remembering the time when I was very upset and she put my face in her cleavage until it was better and then let me cry on her breasts. That was not a horrible person. That was like a loving mother who knew what her silly child needed to feel better and cared enough to indulge. Yeah, that was the moment when I gave in – when I realized how much of what she does is indulging me. I still feel violated, but I feel like she actually cares, too.
I wanted to – oh darn it, this is where it is going to be hard to write as if she is not reading this. I wanted to drive over here right then – it must have been 3 in the morning – and have her put my face in her boobs again and hug her. I knew she would be mad to be woken up so I didn’t, but I really wanted to.
When I got home after lunch Sunday I had to really screw up my courage to go down and knock. And then they weren’t home. Probably out for Easter.
I heard them come in later but couldn’t make myself go down. I wondered how I could get things back to the way they were and tried to picture myself just going over there to make tea after work on Monday. That’s when I wrote saying it was okay and asking her if I could. Somehow, using my diary to communicate with her seemed to – oh I don’t know.
Yesterday I just went over for tea like usual. We both just acted like nothing had happened, but she did not even ask me where I had been since Thursday so I know she read what I wrote. The only thing that was said was when I was doing her feet she asked if I wanted to talk about it, but I thought if I did I might say something I would regret so I said “no”. I just rubbed her feet and did the dishes, thanked her and left. Oh, I put my cheek against her hand when I was kneeling beside her. That felt really nice.
Today was the same, but she told me she wants me to keep writing my diary. I said I didn’t think I could but she said she thought it was very important that I do and told me to try.
Well, I guess I did better than I thought I would. But this was not exactly the same as writing out some humiliating fantasy so I don’t know if I will be able to ever be as open as I used to be. I think I want to try, though.
Wednesday, April 26, 2000
Oh, I forgot to say that Greg asked me if I wanted to go out for lunch with him on Thursday, but I was so upset about the diary that I told him I wasn’t feeling well. I was worried he might think I didn’t like him so today I asked him if he had plans for lunch. He did, but the important thing is that I asked. I was quite surprised that I had the guts, but it was actually easy. Maybe after all the embarrassing things I have doing for Mrs Barnabas it is making me stronger.
It's confusing, though, because I don’t know what I would want with him. I don’t know what I want with Mrs Barnabas, either. I mean, it is
not like I think he wants to be more than friends, but I can’t help thinking about what if he did and I just don’t think I could handle that if I was still...
doing these things with Mrs Barnabas. I don’t know if I could handle anything more anyway, but how close could I get with someone when I am doing all these sick things all the time? It's like there is this new person that I am when I am here and I can’t let anybody else know about her but I can’t wait to get home every night so I can be her again. I used to be busy almost every night seeing friends and I think I have only even seen Deanna like once in the past month. And it is not because Mrs Barnabas won’t let me, but because I am spending all my time either being this new person with her or masturbating and writing about her here.
It’s so ironic that I’ve been wishing for a boyfriend for 12 years and no guy has asked me out and now suddenly a guy does – twice – when I am totally obsessed with...
with my landlady!
No, that’s not ironic. That's stupid. I mean if I was gay and had started a relationship with a woman it would make sense, but she isn’t gay and I know I am screwed up but I don’t think I am gay and this isn’t a relationship. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what she thinks at all.
Thursday, April 27, 2000
Mrs Barnabas thinks the reason Greg asked me out now is because I have been so horny and sexual recently that he could sense it. Maybe. Maybe asking someone if I can masturbate in their bathroom while looking at dirty magazines has changed me somehow.
She says that we are friends. I said that my other friends don’t make me ask permission to work late or use my vibrator, but she said that different friends are good for different things and isn’t it nice that we have a friend who likes to do these things. That makes it sound so simple. It just does not feel that simple to me. She asked if I liked making her tea and doing nice things for her and when she lets me embarrass myself for her. Of course I do. Then she said that she really likes it too and that she wants to help me do even worse things and asked if I would like that. I said I would. I am afraid of what those worse things will be, but I can’t wait to find out and I am getting horny wondering.
I asked her why she wanted anything to do with me and she said she likes me, but I asked if she just does those things because I like them and she said no, she thinks they are a riot. I don’t understand how it could be any fun for her or what she would get out of having me masturbate in her bathroom but I am glad she says she does.
She also said she was glad I know about her reading my diary because she can talk to me about things more. She said that before I would have written in my diary that I did not understand what our relationship was and she couldn’t then tell me because it would have been too obvious how she knew.
She let me take Kendal in the bathroom.
Friday, April 28, 2000
Had lunch with Greg. I really like him. He is funny and interesting. I don’t know what he sees in me, but he seemed to have a nice time. He is really into mountain biking. In a way it is good that this is happening now because if it had happened any other time I would be totally obsessing over it and I know I would have been crushed when I find out he really does just want to be friends. But now, I am already obsessing about something else and I think it would be a lot easier if we did just stay friends. Maybe that’s what he senses: that I am not desperate for a boyfriend. Actually, I kinda hope he does not want anything more because I think it might get really complicated with Mrs Barnabas.
I have to babysit for them tonight. I feel like I should feel used the way she just tells me that I am babysitting while they go out and have fun, but I kind of like the way she thinks she can just tell me what to do.
I just checked the bathroom and all the magazines are gone. Last time she put them in the bedroom but I know I am not supposed to go in there.
I just checked and they are sitting in a stack on the floor of the bedroom and Kendal is sitting on the bedside table but I didn’t go in the room.
Saturday, April 29, 2000
Sunday, April 30, 2000
I had such a great day yesterday. After Mr Barnabas went to work she gave me one of her bras to change into. It was a thinner one than the one I wore last time so the cups did not hold their shape which really showed off how much smaller I am and of course the top of my dress didn’t fit it at all. I loved how stupid it looked. She laughed so hard when I came out of the bathroom that I felt like crying, but I am not sure if they would have been tears of happiness or not. Then she gave me a pair of her pumps to wear while I cleaned. They are too big so while I cleaned the house I felt like a little girl playing dress-up in my mother’s clothes, pretending I was a real woman. After lunch she wanted me to take my dress off but I felt SO self-conscious. But she told me if I did she would give me a treat that I would just love and if I didn’t she would be very disappointed, so of course I did. It was so hard at first especially in that huge, empty bra and I think I was beet red. But after a while I started to love looking so silly for her.
I got my treat after tea. She sat on the couch and had me lie with my head on her lap. Facing her so her boobs were right over my head. It felt so good to be so near them. I really wanted to bury my face in them but I also just felt so grateful that she understands what I want and puts up with my perverted desires. I started thanking her. I wanted her to know how much I did love my treat.
Then I told her I loved her. It just came out. Like I didn’t realize it was true until it came out of my mouth. There was this huge pause while I almost died waiting to see if she was going to be disgusted, but finally she just smiled and stroked my head and said, “I know you do. Are you ready for your treat?”
Lying with her boobs just inches from my face wasn’t my treat?!
Then she took off her top and her bra and they were actually resting on my face! One on my left temple and the other on my cheek! I think I was whimpering I was so happy. It felt like I was buried in love. They were so heavy and soft and smelled so good.
Then she lifted my head up and put my mouth to her nipple! I sucked and warm, sweet milk flowed into my mouth and she rocked me back and forth and petted my head. I felt so loved and understood.
She said “Now, aren’t you glad I read your diary? How would I know that such a little thing would make you so happy if I hadn’t read what a dirty girl you are? Forgive me?” And I nodded and started crying I was so happy and so sorry I had been mad at her. It felt so good to bawl my eyes out while nursing like a baby. Just the perfect mix of sick, degrading, sexy and love. She only let me do it for a few minutes before she told me I had had enough and pulled me away but that just made me more grateful for what she had let me have.
I made Mom’s tuna curry for dinner and they said they liked it. It was the first time that I served them both. It funny how upset I would have been by being treated like a servant in front of Mr Barnabas just a month or so ago and now it felt perfectly okay. Like it was my proper place. I tried to give them the best service I could, trying to foresee what they might want.
They watched The Insider while I ate my dinner in the kitchen. They let me stay and watch it too after I had finished the dishes. It was a bit confusing coming in in the middle but I enjoyed it.
I figured that would be it for the night and I would just go home and get frustrated listening to them have sex, and then make it worse by writing about the day like usual, but before I left she told me she wanted me to go straight to bed. I thought, what, is she going to start telling when I have to go to bed every night now, too? If she wanted to, I know I would let her. But instead I had been lying in bed for half an hour or so when I heard them in their bedroom.
“Marilyn? Are you there?”
“Yes, Mrs Barnabas”
“Come over here.”
“In my pajamas?”
“Yes. In your pajamas.”
My mind started racing with what she wanted. It's like my heart went from zero to a thousand. It is this weird feeling
of dreading what it might be but at the same time hoping it is something horrible. It was. When I got there she was holding this black leather blindfold and she had me kneel with my back to her while she put it on me. It has black fur on the inside so I could not see anything.
She said we were going to have a little slumber party and told me to lie down on the carpet. Then she raised my head and put a pillow under it. Then I was alone on the floor and I could hear them making out on the bed. I could hear them kissing and every little groan. It was so much clearer than through the wall! Pretty soon they were fucking and she was making as much noise as ever, but I could actually hear it squishing in and out. It was so hot! And I could smell it, too!
I really wanted to use my wrist but I just knew I could never do that if I thought they might be looking. But it was so hard to stop myself. I mean, that is what I do when they are having sex. I grind my wrist and feel lonely and pathetic. I was shaking I wanted to so badly, but I just couldn’t.
Then they started going slower and she said pretty close to me, “Come on, Marilyn. Do it. Show us how you hump your arm. I know you want to. I promise I’ll laugh at you. I’ll tell you what a loser you are if you do.” So I did it. I rolled over on my belly with my arm between my legs and started humping it like I have since I was little. And she did laugh and told me that I really am such a total loser that I can’t even play with myself the right way and that I was never going to get laid if I kept wearing boring pajamas to bed. All the time he was fucking her so everything came out in angry one-word grunts like I was the most disgusting pathetic person on the planet and it all just made me grind harder so I was really hurting it.