I know it�s been a while since I�ve posted to this diary. Some of you may think that something dangerous might have happened, or that perhaps I was going on strike until the cows came home... or something. But no, I�ve just been writing way too much. Just not for the diary. *smiles softly* It�s not that your second best, cause you�re what keeps me sane in this life I lead (thanks, Vince Gill). It�s just that I didn�t want to post some other, less important triviality until I had finished processing the post I started.

It is really important to me that I get through the whole story about Jonny. I�ve tried posting it here before but previously I�d either glossed over it, or just stopped and not gone back to it. I won�t allow myself to do that this time. So yes, get yourself comfortable. This is going to be another series; when I finally get it posted.

I�m going to go about three or four paragraphs back, kind of a running start. I�m not always good fresh out of the stocks. Forgive the redundancy, please. I need to ease back into this. I�ve felt the need to write about it for the past day or so and decided that today, I would finish it. Truly finish it.

I remember him telling me that if I ever told again, he would kill me. But I don�t think he used those words. Again, I don�t know if that is a memory I made up, something which was implied, or something he said which I misinterpreted. he could have said those exact words. I just don�t remember it clearly enough.

I wasn�t paying attention to his words anyway, I was paying attention to his eyes. He was so very angry. He was furious. Pissed off doesn�t even cover it. He was enraged. And he glared at me. And I was terrified of him. And I begged, I literally begged, tears running down my face, I begged him to forgive me for telling.

Yeah, you read that right. I begged Jonny to forgive me. I told him I never meant to tell them. I told him that I didn�t realize what I was saying until it was out, and that I didn�t know what else to do and I was scared and I would never, ever, ever, ever do it again and please, oh god please, forgive me, I�m sorry, I�m so sorry, I�ll never, ever do it again, not ever, not in a million years. just please, please forgive me.

I felt so terrified. I believed, I really and truly believed that he would kill me if I ever opened my mouth again. I was so completely and totally terrified. And scared, and confused. That little part of me which had come out and was purging the feelings, left and right, was again cowed back into her tiny little corner.

But that wasn�t the worst part. No, the worst part is that the side of me that was enjoying having some power over him, that part of me which liked the Game, that part was laughing at the little, cowering, terrified and hidden part of me. Being at war with yourself... So few people understand what that�s like. So few people understand what it is like when one part of your psyche is satisfied and content, and another side of your psyche is bawling and crying in a corner.

As I look back on it now, I can see myself in my room at the time. I can see myself holding Pepper close to me... she didn�t like Jonny much that day. She was always very tolerant of him, but she didn�t like him. That day, however, she really didn�t like him. She watched him with wariness.

I remember holding her close to me, my arms wrapped almost too-tightly around her, watching Jonny. Shaking. And then he just left. He didn�t necessarily accept my profuse apologies, but he didn�t say anything. He just shook his head and stormed out of my room. And I was sitting there, shaking, crying, terrified.

I couldn�t not tell. I couldn�t. Mom had asked me and it just spilled out like a flash flood. Trust me, I was more surprised than anyone else. And, I didn�t tell all of it. I didn�t say that on our first date he�d forced me to kiss him. I didn�t say that I felt like a foul and disgusting piece of trash. I didn�t say that I should have been able to stop it. I just said that we had kissed some and I didn�t like it.

*shrugs slightly*

Anyway, the next weekend we went out again. Yes, that�s right. The rents believed it had just been a couple kisses and that I didn�t like it. So, Dad told Jonny that he was the man and as such was required to pay attention to my limitations. If I didn�t want to kiss him, he was required to accept that and not force it on me. Dad didn�t think it was anything more than a little innocent kissing. Dad told Jonny that he wasn�t allowed to kiss me at all unless I wanted to.

That was the problem. Unless I wanted to.

I didn�t want to, but we went out... to taco bell. *shakes her head* That was like the ultimate insult. That showed me that I was on Jonny�s shit list and he was teaching me a lesson. Besides, I hated toxic hell. Always had. I was a Taco Time person.

Anyway... That following weekend, he was so cold, so distant, so... I don�t know. To me he seemed to be angry. And yet, as I look back, I think he was either truly playing the Game, or he was pouting. Either way, the result was the same.

I decided to take the upper hand. I was tired of being scared and cowed and - weak. So, I looked him in the eyes and I told him that I bet he couldn�t wait a full hour before he kissed me. I poked his psyche. I started the Game, but I took the situation.

Because: I didn�t want the dating to stop. I didn�t want to go back to spending all my time at the house. I didn�t want to be alone. I didn�t want to have to tell the folks that Jonny and I weren�t dating because he couldn�t kiss me. I didn�t want to look weak. I didn�t want people to see me as some sort of pathetic little girl who couldn�t make a few choices for herself.

After all, it was just some kissing, right? What harm could it possibly do? Neck a little bit, let him feel me up a little bit and go home. I�d have had a nice dinner out. I�d have seen a good movie or two. I�d have gone to a few interesting and beautiful places... *sighs*

So, I started playing the Game in earnest. I started teasing him. �Bet you can�t wait even an hour. You want to kiss me, I know it. You want to taste me.� I was taunting him. And he bit. Hard.

Toxic Hell night was all about me taking control of the Game. I would wiggle my hips at him and keep walking. I would look at him and say something like. �30 more minutes. I bet you can�t hold out.�

And, like a little puppy, or a starved young man, he followed the path I drew for him to walk. Finally, I had him in a park, we were walking and I stopped. I looked at him with that challenging look in my eyes. �You want to, don�t you? You want to kiss me. You want to taste me.�

I could see it in his eyes. He�d held back as long as he could. I sat back against a picnic table, or tree, or something... I leaned back against something and with that ultra-confident look in my eyes, I nodded just a little. �Good boy. Go ahead.�

�Are you sure?� A moment of hesitation before sinking his teeth into the dog biscuit, so to speak. He was practically shaking. And I loved it.

Because: I had him where I wanted him. I was making him dance to my tune. I was no longer cowering and terrified. Oh, that little part of me who didn�t like the kissing and still hated him... she was locked away so tightly, bound and gagged deep in the darkest corner of my mind. She was truly hidden away and helpless. But she got to watch.

And he was frozen there on the edge of indecision. Frozen there, wanting but still keeping that single thread of control in his mind. I nodded my head, just a little and he almost leapt forward. Before he made contact with me though, I murmured one more command. It was my Game, so he would play it my way.

�Be gentle.�

And he was. He kissed me once, gently, soft and tender. I placed my hand upon his shoulder, pushing just a little and almost immediately he backed off. Yes, it was definitely my Game now.

I let him kiss me three or four more times that night, but nothing all out, nothing too serious, just those little tastes, teasing him, taunting him, making him dance. And I loved it. The kissing part still sucked ass, but the power part gave me a high I�d never before felt. I was in control. Complete control.

And, when I said I was tired, in that offhanded/bored way, he jumped to attention, nodding. He escorted me back to the car and opened my door for me. He was very polite, every bit the gentleman. He drove me back home, escorted me back to the door and looked expectantly at me, to see if he was going to get a kiss.

I placed my hand upon his shoulder, that knowing grin teasing my lips and told him, �Next time... sweet dreams.�

Then I went in the house. I closed the door and leaned heavily against it. I wanted to throw up. I hated him, absolutely hated him, but I consoled myself with knowing that it was now My Game. MINE.