I'm sorry, I know I was supposed to write a journal last night about what I did yesterday. I started writing it at home, and then I must of been really tired, I woke up this morning lying on the floor in the lounge. It should of been really uncomfortable but it wasn't, somehow I waked up feeling really rested, but too late to post what I'd written before I went to work.

Anyway, I was seeing those mirror girls again all yesterday, damn they're annoying. And what's worse, every time I went to the bathroom I found out I couldn't use the toilet, I just put a nappy on under my clothes, that's all I could do and I couldn't go no matter how much I needed it. Then as soon as I was sitting at my desk again, it got too much for me to hold. It would have looked pretty damn weird if anybody was watching, always going to the bathroom twice a couple of minutes apart.

Then when I got home, there was an email from Angel. It was a bit of a weird one, really. I found that when I went to the co op for milk, I also had to buy this weird little torch thing. Its a kids one, like "my first torch" or something, shaped like a pink jelly baby with a pathetic light shining out of the top, and a green button on his crotch.

I knew I was supposed to write back and let him know I'd bought it, but I was kind of embarrassed and I wanted to try to guess what it was for, so maybe I wouldn't be too surprised. So I was fighting that urge all the time, and knowing I couldn't hold out much longer without writing. Its like all mthe time I tried not to write this until later, I was feeling my willpower break down and knowing I won't be able to in future.

Sorry I'm writing this slowly, I keep pausing every time Jenn comes past. After yesterday I'm half expecting her to keep bending over and stuff, and I can't stop myself wondering what knickers she's wearing today. But she's got jeans on, half the girls in the office have, its something about raising money for some illness charity, wear jeans because its in your genes. I'm looking, but she's not even letting me see the top of her knickers peeking up above. When Steph, the receptionist, goes up the stairs, I'm even ducking a bit trying to see up her skirt, and its weird, I'm not like that. Well, not apart from Monday, but that's because somebody made me do it. Has somebody sent me an email "Your a lesbian today, must do" or something?

Anyway, I was playing around with this torch, trying to figure out what he'd make me do. Its about the same size as a dildo, maybe I'm going to have to read something using a torch stuck inside me, or in my ass or something. I tried it and it fits, no sharp corners or anything, but it doesn't feel right. I just had no idea what I'm supposed to do.

Then I saw one of those mirror girls again, but I didn't really pay attention. I was just starting into space really, and the mirror happened to be in front of me. I'm neo-pagan like my mum, I found some shinto gods fit into my beliefs so I accept them. Ameratsu the sun goddess is my patron goddess, so there's mirrors all over my house to make sure there's light everywhere.

I wondered if that's part of it. I talked to naughtyemailslave a bit, and know he'd made her buy a bunch of flowers, and sent her the same email. And he sent it to Who's slave too. I know I sent both of the others the email about the mirror girls, so maybe its something to do with that.

I tried to shine the torch on the ghostly schoolgirl reflection in the mirror, but it was suddenly a bit hard to concentrate, my eyes kept drifting to stare at her panties where I could see under her stupidly short skirt. It was turning me on, knowing that I could see and I didn't think she knew. Then she started coming closer and closer, still singing that bloody ever heather weather Trevor song, and for a minute I wondered why it wasn't getting louder.

Then she stopped, so close I could almost feel her breath on my ear. I waved the torch behind me, still watching her in the mirror, intending to shine it in her eyes. My coordination isn't gereat, though. Looking in the mirror, I could see a little spot of light on her panties, and on the sealing above me. I half expected it to burn her or something, but I guess I was wrong. She smiled, and leaned over to whisper in my ear. I noticed I could see down her top, she was wearing a frilly lace peephole bra, then I heard her whisper "Jean Heather Muldoon", and I instantly felt my bowel clench. Its like she'd commanded me to take a dump, and I just couldn't resist. I hope my name doesn't always do that now, that would be so embarrassing.

After I cleaned up, feeling so helpless, I decided I'm going to send something really nasty to those ghosts, just as soon as I can think of something. Then I emailed Jeanette back, wondering if she has any better ideas about what this torch and her flowers are for. She said she worked it out, but she think it would spoil it to tell me. I think she's not allowed to tell me, that's the kind of thing Angel would do.

Then as I started writing this, I had an idea, amazed I'd not thought of this before. I tried shining the torch on myself, pointing it at my arm. It was a prickly feeling, kind of like pins and needles, but actually felt good, like they're accupuncture pins and needless. I moved it around a bit, it was a lot of fun. But then I brushed across my left nipple, and it felt so good. It was amazing, I just had to keep doing it. I'd got so horny looking at the mirror girls, peeking at their underwear, and I just needed to satisfy my needs.

It felt so wrong, and not so much in a good way, but it was so intense I didn't really mind. I don't know, it was pleasure and I couldn't stop myself, but I didn't feel like it meant anything. Kind of like when somebody made me masturbate with my feet before, I really hated that, but this time wasn't so bad. It was just a purely physical pleasure, that made me feel guilty, but its better than being horny all night.

After I found my nipples couldn't give me any more, I was right on the edge. I shone it down to my orchid, see if it felt the same. My ass, I got a lovely tingling, but that just turned me on a bit. Further forward, it was so good, I think I was ready to cum, but then I almost dropped the torch, and I don't know what happened but suddenly I was weeing all on the floor. I paniced and wanted to clean up, but then I came. That torch was so amazing. I took a look, wondering if it was really just a normal one, but I don't remember what I saw. Probably a normal little bulb glowing feebly, but I don't remember. Next thing I know, I was waking up on the floor and its already 8:40.

And there's still a line of pink post-it notes on my floor, and I feel I still haven't completely cracked the secret of that torch. Two things to think about today. It turns me on a lot not knowing, having to think about it. But right now, not so much as looking down my workmate's tops. I wish that would go away, maybe I just have to look closer and I'll figure out why I'm doing it ...