She's been watching me for almost two weeks now!

I swear she's at the library every time I am! And that's a lot!

I know that she's finally realized I've been watching her. I've let her believe I don't know she knows. Our eyes have met a couple of times...

I look away quickly.

I'm starting to see her outside of the library. I've seen her in the cafe quite a bit. I wonder if she lives on campus too?

I've left her a note today. She always sits at the same table. I left the note taped to the spot where she sets her books down. I've written nothing too forward, just "hi", and some other inanities.

She wasn't in the library today, at least, not that I saw. I'm glad. That note she left for me confused me enough. I don't think I'd have been able to study at all if I knew that she was there watching me.

I'm glad the lecture classes here are so huge. It makes it very easy to watch her from a crowd. She's so studious. Too bad all of her classes aren't lectures.

She's left another note for me. Funny, I don't remember seeing her in that class before, or today either. But, there's no other way she could have known the details of my presentation, if she hadn't been there... right? I'll write her back, today. Maybe get some answers, finally.

Her letters to me have become increasingly chatty. She's lonely. She tells me of her classes; her roommates; her family, her friends. She tells me her feelings, longings and desires.

I don't know why I'm writing this stuff to her! It's so silly! I can't believe that she actually reads all of this! But, I know that she does.

I'm writing to her more now than I do in my own journal.

Today she's mentioned her brother's upcoming Bar Mitzvah, and how she's troubled that she's nothing to wear, and no money for a new dress.

That dress she bought for me was perfect! I can't believe she knew my size! I can't believe she bought me a dress! It must have cost a fortune... but I couldn't possibly say "no", could I? I left her a picture today, under my usual note. It's of me, in the dress. I asked the photographer to take it especially for her.

The weather is getting warmer now. Spring has finally crawled into New England. She's wearing less and less. It's a truly tempting sight!

Even better, she's taking my 'advice' more and more on what she should wear. I do believe she's found she likes me telling her what to do. She's growing into her role nicely.

Next week, we talk. Maybe.

She likes my hair down, even in this hot weather. She likes the way my legs look in denim shorts, and the way my tummy peeks out below my t-shirt when I stretch. She tells me that pastel yellow is a good color on me, but brilliant red is better. I cut down three pairs of jeans, shrunk a handful of t-shirts, and died a tank top strawberry red. I want her to tell me how lovely

I am. I want her to tell me how when I tug at my shorts, I make her shiver. I want her to tell me more!

She smiles when she comes in to the library now. She can't wait to see if I've left another letter for her. I can see that she's really disappointed when I haven't. She still looks for me, whether the letter is there or not.

I didn't even see her walk up to me! I feel like such a fool! There was no note today. I looked around for her, but I didn't see her. Then, when I'd just finished my French homework, she appeared at the corner of the table. She didn't even slow down... just walked past and smiled at me. She was so close and I couldn't get my mouth to work! I never even noticed her slip me the invitation.

I didn't think she'd come to the party. Crowds just aren't her scene. She's shy and quiet, prefers the library or the tea-house on campus.

I can't believe I'm here! I should never have talked myself into this! There are so many people here, and the apartment feels so tiny! I haven't even talked to her yet! What on earth made me think that this was a good idea, coming out to meet her like this?!

She's edgy, scared. I've poured her a drink. Her instructions are written on the cup. I know she'll follow them. She's already here. And she's wearing the outfit I chose.

I saw her hand the cup to that guy. I sort of know him. He's been in most of my lit classes since freshman year. I was surprised when he handed the drink to me. Surprised, that is, until he carefully turned the cup in my hand and smiled mischievously.

"Finish your drink slowly. Say 'hi' to your friends. When the conversation turns to Buffy, excuse yourself and come up the back stairs."

I'm so excited I can hardly chat. I'm sure my friends know something's up! At least the drink is good, fruity and mild.

I've set up everything. The note instructing her not to speak is taped to the wall at the top of the stairs. The satin ties for blindfold and gag are near at hand. The delicate glove-leather collar has tag all printed. She will not say

'no'. I am certain of it.

I open the door to find a softly lit bedroom. The wispy drapes flutter a bit in the breeze from the open windows. There is a large canopy bed, but all the pillows have been piled on the floor. She's sitting in the chair across the room. Her encouraging smile sends tingles all through my body. She beckons me toward her.

She enters the room. She is visibly shaking. Though, by the look on her face, it's difficult to tell whether she is trembling from fear or from anticipation. She stands before me.

"Kneel." She sinks to her knees. She doesn't even hesitate.

I can't think straight! My blood rushes in my ears.

She's spoken to me! It's the first I've heard her voice. And I want to swoon.

She stands in front of me. Standing up on my knees like this I come barely to her waist. She's so gentle and so firm and so deliberate.

I trace my finger down her jaw. Her skin is soft and smooth. She unconsciously leans in to my touch. I smile. I cannot help myself. I hand her the note card with the rules.

"One weekend.

You will not be hurt, but limits will be pushed.

Obedience is mandatory.

No speaking.

Nod or shake your head when asked a question.

One weekend. Mine."

I'm in shock. Utterly and completely.

"Do you agree?"

I find myself nodding. I can't believe I'm saying 'Yes'! I can't believe I'm doing this!

She's frightened. I can see the trace of tears in her eyes.

But she's nodding. She's saying 'yes'. I take her face in my hands. She's so pliant, so obedient. So perfect.

She leans down to kiss me. The touch of her lips on mine is like lightening. I can't believe I'm feeling this! I can't believe the tingling in the pit of my stomach. I can't believe the softness of her touch and how incredible it's making me feel.

I walk around her. She sways lightly on her knees. She is leaning easily into my hand on her shoulder. I take the satin blindfold and let it drag along her bare shoulders. A sigh escapes her lips.

She's tying the scarf around my eyes. She's so very gentle.

Her hands roam over my body. Her touch burns! I have goose bumps!

I run my hands down her sides. She's so svelte. Her skirt floats above the floor where she kneels. The curve of her tush beckons my touch.

She crouches behind me as her hands slide down my sides. One hand slips under my skirt. I ought to stop her. I ought to close my legs. I ought to...

She's wet, soaked through her panties.

"Is this my fault?" I whisper in her ear.

Her fault?! Of course it's her fault!

"Well?" She breathes. Hurriedly I nod 'yes'.

A little slow on the uptake but she'll learn.

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