Rebecca

Part 1 of Rebecca's Journals: Dream Man

June 2011 

I am sitting in my apartment, in the living room on my couch, with twelve dozen roses surrounding me. I've written this before, you say. Why yes, I have, about five months ago, I think. And yes, he sent them again. This time they are white, not red, and this time rather than an apology, they feel like a promise. An invitation to be something other than what we have been in the past. Something more than master and submissive. Oh, I know that master and submissive is quite special to many, but to those many, it is right for them. It was never right for me. He was, though. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe it's the heady scent of the flowers he's made me love. Maybe it's the heady sense of hope these flowers, delivered after a month of silence between us, have now created. Or maybe it's the fact that the card reads: Tonight. Eight o'clock. I'll send a car. 

I admit that when I opened the card, my hand had been shaking. And I admit that when I read that card, my heart hurt. It hurt because that is the kind of note he sent me when I was his submissive. 

He ordered. 

I obeyed.   

Read the rest of this entry plus new installments weekly on Hypable.com. First entry: http://www.hypable.com/rebeccas-lost-journals-new-entries/