Time flies when you’re having fun, and she was having a lot of fun. Maybe one day she’d go back to her father and take a place in the Russian mob, but not until his little princess had become deadly enough to give any man in his regime a run for his money.
     Or would she return? She had played her wicked little games in so many cities that they were all blurring together, until Dead End. Here, for the first time in her life, she had found a home, a family, and a town whose P.D. was highly ineffective. Perhaps she’d stay for a very long time.
     She never was terribly far from her father’s mind, though, and he from hers, especially when she needed money, which is how she bought the cute little home she now had and why she was sitting in a silk kimono, out of her usual uniform of leather, on a swing writing in a small, leather-bound book.

 
June 1
Dear Diary,
It has been years since I have felt safe enough to keep you, and I miss your un-emotional, un-judgmental pages. I’ll enjoy sharing my exploits again with you, Diary, as I know you’ll enjoy listening. First, though, business:

• ·         May 19th – Lavendaar: $20 cash; boots and jewelry pawned for $80; given to Chrissy for Yama
• ·         May 23rd – Transic: $1200 cash; given to Yama
• ·         May 28th – Rhea: Captured; My pet

 
It looks like I need to get to work.
 
First is my pet. She has no name yet, as it has not come to me, but seeing as how her training and indoctrination to me is to erase her old life from her and mold her into this new one, she needs a new name. She is definitely coming along nicely, though. I have to say that I get a little thrill to see her get so frustrated when I refuse to permit her an orgasm.

 
I’m buying her a chastity belt, seeing as how she’s starting to come into her sexuality and being more comfortable with it. It may seem cruel, but it accomplishes two ends: First, it protects her from those that would disregard my ownership of her and use her to in some way hurt her or me; and second, it enforces on her my will, reminding her each second of the day that it is *I* that control her, *I* who decides when she may eat, sleep, sit, stand, and even cum.

 
I am very pleased with her, though. And I get a thrill at my own self-inflicted torture when I deny myself the pleasure of her body. But she will never hear that admission from me.

 
The next thing that is going on in my life, I can’t seem to bring myself to write even in these safe pages. I often feel as if the gift of the heart that I received is a dream, and penning the details to paper will cause that dream to evaporate, me to wake, and reality to slap me in the face.  So for now, I’ll hold this joy close to my heart and perhaps one day soon, I can write about this crazy and wonderful happening.

 
Finally, I got a house. It’s worth it to stay on good terms with my father, hmm?  Lovely place. My sanctuary. Someplace I can go and simply center myself and recharge so I don’t go insane. Right now, only two people have access to it. Will I ever permit more? Perhaps one day.  But for now, I’m being private and greedy and damn those that can’t respect that.

 
This has been fun, Diary. I will have to visit your pages more often. Forgive me for my silence for so long.

 
     She slid the pen into the spine of the book, closing it with a gentle caress of her fingers over the soft cover. Then she put it away in a hidden safe at her home. It was time to pull on the leather or latex and go out and find trouble.