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forget to wear it next time you come."
    I carefully eased the ring off and placed it on the table.
    She nodded toward me. "You know what you need to do."
    "Please Mistress, may I touch you? Please, Mistress, let me kiss and lick your pussy. Please!"
    "Since you ask so nicely, you may, but hands behind your back. Just use your mouth."
    I kneeled between her legs and put my arms behind me. Tentatively, I leaned forward and touched the tip of my tongue to her clit. She sighed and relaxed. I boldly took her clit between my lips and began to suck. I felt a little quiver pass through her and felt honored that I was giving my Mistress pleasure.
    I lifted my head. "Please Mistress, may I lick your sweet pussy?"
    She smiled. "Yes, fuck me with your tongue."
    I slid my mouth down to her wet hole and pressed inside. Her hand grabbed my hair, holding my head in place as she pressed against my mouth. I flicked my tongue around her opening and then thrust in and out. Without warning, I felt the cat o' nine tails come down on my lower back, the knots hitting my ass, and I jumped but didn't stop fucking her with my tongue. This was the trade-off, and it was worth it.

Confessions of a Sex Addict – Rachel Boleyn
    I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fluttering of my own heart. They were staring at me. All of their beady little eyes watching, waiting for me to confess all my dirty sins in one exhale so I could take the first step toward healing and recovery.
    I felt ridiculous up there. Healing and recovery... what a crock of shit! Why was it so wrong to love love something that felt so right? Society was seriously messed up if they thought they could stop people from having sex with a twelve-step program and a heavy layer of guilt. God, I wanted nothing more in the world than to find the strength to walk out the door and never look back, but I couldn't do that.
    My husband Kenny was counting on me to see this through, and after everything I'd done to him in the last five years, I couldn't let him down again.
    I swallowed my pride and allowed the air that filled my lungs to deflate in one long sigh that fluttered the loose pieces of hair that dangled over my brow.
    "Hi," I began, my voice cracking under the pressure of that one word. "My name is Lila and…"
    And what? I was a slut? A whore? And I had a problem with sex? The absurdity of those words alone was almost enough to make me laugh.
    "And I… I am… I guess I am a sex addict."
    A chorus of greetings circulated the room, a combination of male and female voices, young and old, fat and thin, stunning and hideous. My inner-cynic wondered how in the hell someone as fat and dirty as the greasy guy taking up half of the second row could possibly be a sex addict, the power of his hungry gaze as he stared me down told me far more than I'd ever want to know about him.
    "Welcome Lila." The group leader's name was Grace, and judging from the smug, yet peaceful look she wore, I couldn't imagine anyone like her had ever fallen, but Kenny had promised me that everyone in the group would be like me. "Do you feel comfortable telling us why you're here?"
    I didn't feel comfortable with any of it, and as I surveyed the door again, my conscience battled the burning urge inside me to bolt into the night and never look back. "Uh…" I looked down at my hands, a mixture of shame and discomfort burning in my cheeks. "I guess I'm here to try and save my marriage."
    Grace nodded, and as I glanced into the sea of faces before me, I caught a few other knowing nods as well. It didn't give me much confidence, but I swallowed my pride and dove in.
    "I've been cheating on him since before we were even married," I admitted. "And not just like once or twice, but all the time," I said. "On our wedding day, I had sex with all the groomsmen before we even said our vows, and at the reception I fucked my father-in-law in the… Can I say that? That I fucked someone?"
    It was Grace's turn to blush a little, and I