I'm not sure when this became so much more than just a little game.
Maybe it was when she made me realize I liked being controlled. Maybe it was when I pulled her into the janitor's closet for a session and she didn't react to my body and picked me off of her like a piece of lint stuck to a freshly washed shirt and walked out unfazed as if nothing happened... Or maybe it was when I spotted her at another cliche high school party, her eyes locked with mine the whole time with a smirk that never left as she was in the corner with her hand down the front of some needy girl's skinny jeans and all I could do was stand frozen in place as a bunch of sweaty teens danced around me, occasionally bumping into me as the club-like strobe lights flickered.
But if I had to pick any moment in time, I would pick the moment that I had realized being in love with someone was not the worst thing you could feel, no, it was far from the worst...I was so beyond that, I was addicted. I needed her and she...she knew she had me in the palm of her hands, on my hands and knees, and she (the worst) would have no trouble just quitting me and walking away.
I guess I should just start at the beginning...