August has come to an end and September is already three days old. Where did the time go. Before you know we will be celebrating Christmas!
Last month I have managed yet again to participate with the #Storyin12 prompt every day. I have noticed that on the second half of the month my tweets have not been retweeted even though I was/am not shadowbanned. No idea why this is, but here you have my contributions to the daily prompt.
An unexpected benefit of being a young vice chairman – spanking the chairlady.
“Just come as you are,” the invitation letter said.
She went. Naked.
Note: I wish I had the confidence to do something like this, but I don’t think that ever in my life I will do this. I am too much of a coward! I won’t even go naked if the invitation said I have to!
He’s my husband because I love him; my dominant because of trust.
Note: Even though D/s things are not happening between us, he is still my dominant and always will be, up to the day we both agree he’s not. But I don’t think that day will ever come.
“Sunday,” he said, “on Sunday I’m fucking your cunt in every room!”
Note: Oh, I wish!
I gave up the fight; accepted the pain; drifted into a dream.
Melodious French rolled from his lips; my panties dampened, despite not understanding.
Note: I don’t understand one word of French, and I don’t even know if I do like the sound of it, but I have heard from others that it’s a beautiful language.
“Your Grace,” the young man said, bowed and zipped up his pants.
Note: Oh dear, to be in a royal setting, Still one of my fantasies!
Hand in hand, walking barefoot in the summer rain. Best friends forever.
Note: This reminds me of my childhood days in Namibia, where I walked barefoot in the rain with my best friend.
“Curves!” the reflection screamed. She saw, she approved, she loved it all!
Note: I am learning to love my curves in the mirror.
She was crying, feeling broken, but so strong. Finally, she belonged. His!
Note: I long for the day our D/s will be going strong again; to not only know but also feel that I am his.
Filthy stories are my thing, especially if I’m the one writing them!
“Cream of the crop,” he says.
Out of context, her excitement builds.
Note: I tend to see the filth in the most innocent remarks!
Moving together as one, their dance was erotic and sensual; people stared.
Note: This reminded me of my first husband. When we danced, people moved o the side and gave us the floor. Our bodies fit together perfectly and we really moved as one. Too bad he turned out to be an abuser.
Today I witnessed my circle: filled with love, light, honesty and freedom.
Note: This was written on the day we had a BBQ with my cousins. I looked at the people around me and realized: these are the people I love. They are who they are, no pretenses. They are honest in who they are and I love then to bits for it!
He pinched her nose between two fingers.
She hated taking medicine!
Looking back at the difficult times, she thought: ‘Victory! I made it!’
Note: For the past week I have noticed that I am becoming stronger again, and it makes me happy. I am not there yet, but the day will come when I will say ‘Victory!’
The remedy for a broken heart is love, she learned. Self love.
Note: I think this is so true. When something breaks your heart, we tend to move away from ourselves, sometimes even loathing ourselves. Loving yourself, accepting yourself, can help to heal your broken heart faster.
I offered him my body. He took my heart and soul too.
Note: That’s what Master T did. He will forever be the owner of my body, heart and soul and I don’t think I will ever find anyone I trust with it the same way I do him.
Dead set on his goal, she kneels.
Twelve cane strokes.
Note: I’m ready, even if I have to be ready for the cane I hate so much.
Our brief encounter is forever engraved in his taste on my lips.
One Message. Two promises. Three words. My heart sang; I believed again.
Judge. Jury. Executioner. He’s always the one holding everything in his hands.
Note: Once again reference to Master T. He does hold everything in his hands. His approval, his love – it means the world to me.
“Hold the rose,” he said.
Thorns. Labia. Pain.
But she held it!
Note: I think I should use this in an image…
He demands my attention, without words – only the expression in his eyes.
Note: Master T still has the ability to melt me with only the expression in his eyes.
The attack had nestled in her muscles, painfully accompanying her through life.
Six symmetrical lines was what she needed to pass her final exam.
“A glass of wine?” he asked.
One was more; she never left.
Imaginery lips sucked her clit with the buzzing sound of a toy.
Satisfied, smiling, limp cock slipping from her mouth, she wiped her mouth.
Note: Oh to suck him to an orgasm again…
One knock. The sign. The door swung open.
“Good girl,” she heard.
Note: I can’t wait for another date again, to hear a man (or woman) enter and wait for what will happen…
One nasty sneer. One swift movement. Red, bare bottom. A kiss-sealed apology.
Those were my offerings for August’s #Storyin12 and of course I will be participating again in September!
© Rebel’s Notes