I say there is nothing wrong with S/M; it is neither abnormal nor sinful.

If a woman adores being her husband’s slave, she should indulge herself. I say this not only because I am a masochist, but because three years ago I was involved in an S/M scene.

At the time, I was twenty-eight and my husband was twenty-nine. We had been married for three years. I always had masochistic desires but never revealed them to my husband. If he spanked me, I wished it were a whipping; if he pinned me down, I wished I were tied down. But I just didn’t know how to tell him this.

One night, some friends asked us over to their house. The husband let us in, made some drinks, told us he had a surprise, and took us downstairs to the family room. There was his wife, hanging naked by her wrists and standing on tiptoe.

We expressed shock, but our friend said that he had sensed something in us and, if we stayed, we would learn what it was. I was really fascinated and saw that my husband was, too. So we stayed.

We learned they had been into sado-masochism for years; that she was his slave and loved being owned. His words alone made me hot and excited, and I noticed that my husband was plenty aroused, too.

We stood in a circle around the naked slave who hung before us. I found myself describing her body in degrading terms for the men, and even pinching her nipples and thighs. Then I noticed a riding crop, asked about it, and her husband said I could use it. I really gave her a good lashing on her buttocks but all the while, I knew I was really hitting myself. I imagined myself naked and groaning and at the mercy of others. And when she reacted, I saw how I would react in the same situation. Then my husband took over and he loved it.

By the time we left, she had been hanging for three hours. Her behind was bright red, and she had been photographed and thoroughly humiliated. My husband and I were so juiced-up that the moment we got home we ripped off each other’s clothes and screwed on the livingroom rug. Right then, I confessed to my husband that I wanted to be his devoted slave.

Since then, I have rejoiced every time he has stripped, bound, humiliated, and whipped me. He has made me get down on my knees, naked and bound, and lick the bathroom floor while he paddled me — and I adored it. I have been suspended head down, ankles tied to a rafter and arms bound across my back for a punishment party — and I loved it. No matter what my master does, he gives me joy.

Someday, I just know he will hang me naked by my wrists, leave me alone, and return with another couple to punish me. When they do, I’m sure my erotic sensations will be strong. I will love it, because I love being a slave.