Step Eleven
I lie painfully bound up tight on the floor by Goddess Kimiko’s bed and watch wonderfully sexy Mistress Aiko sleep snuggled blissfully in my Goddess’ arms with her face nestled between those magnificent breasts, I find I can’t really blame Mistress for the catastrophe that has befallen me.
Despite even the horrible jealously and resentment I feel toward this creature who has so comprehensively defeated me, self-honesty forces me to concede that she only moved the bottle of sherry from whatever dusty cellar it had been in to a shelf where I would see it. Neither she nor anyone else forced me to try to drink it. That moment of weakness, betrayal, and insanity was entirely my own despicable failure.
For a minute I’m struck by the similarity of my fall to the old Garden of Eden
