"I love you too!" I responded."Tammy, As much as I would love you to move in here, I think we both need the separate environments as a differential to what we do together!" I replied.Tammy pouted a sulk but nodded her agreement. "Besides you have a task to complete before tonight" I reminded her."Oh what master?" she asked."Your emailed Diary on last night's activities!" I pointed out."But I am not at home till tomorrow!" she quizzed.I took her hand and led her to my computer room and sat her down in front of the screen; turned on the computer and instructed her to log on to her own email account.I left her to write her report, whilst I went to make a cup of coffee for the two of us.Master. Here is my diary entry for Friday and Saturday.Friday night.My journey to your home was an adventure in its own right, the balls in my cunt set up delicious rippling feelings in my cunt and this caused the Thai beads in my arse to come alive.When I arrived at your Home, Master, I was on the verge. Since it would be a number of months before she could stand and work at an easel for any length of time, she instead began with pencil studies in her sketchbook. This was nothing new to her. Everything that ended up on canvas began with sketches.What was new to her, during that time, was the anxiety she suddenly felt the first time she contemplated the blank sheet. The absence it represented was yawning, vast. She needed to do something, anything, to fill it.The work began as a series of delicately rendered glyphs, densely collected, starting in the center of the page and expanding concentrically. She first worked in graphite, then switched to pen and ink. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it. It seemed to flow from her unconscious. The repetition of the shape she was drawing, the nearly obsessive compulsion to keep repeating it, assumed a transcendental aspect. As the adjoining and overlapping shapes expanded into a larger patterned shape of its own, she almost felt like she was.
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