"My submissive are power, strength, bravery, and most of all they stand beside me willing in their position. You stand as strong as you kneel. Am I clear?" His words, like vows to ourselves he builds submission, not as a position under him by the point of weakness or the inability to find strength in ourselves. No. We are destruction and creation that finds power in kneeling. "Yes Master," Celeste speaks proudly. No shake in her voice. "Yes Master," I speak out, proud and understood in my place. ___________________________________ The moment Evita Alonso fell to her knees her tale began. A bond between her and her lovers will find them in a journey of sex, lust, control, submission, pain, secrets, and the face of death.

Looking down he hides from the truth but he needs to hear what he demanded and expected from us "Look up Angel." A visible shake comes from him as he raises his head, eyes glimmering in a flood of shame "You held our fears, joys, nightmares and dreams in your hands, but most of all you held our life's. Literally held our lives in your hands with our honesty as more of a bond than the bindings. Yet we were not even given your honest last name. That's not being a dominant or our Master. You are a lying sadist." Walking past him I give him no other look before I speak "Goodbye Mr. Nader." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Evita washed of the blood, Celete faced the fear of death and Angel found strength when it was faint but can they survive the true test of loving each other? Can they survive betrayal, the truth and more especially the blood that runs through their vains. This is Their Tale.

The worst love is the one that stays, lingering in the moments where silence fills itself with the softest nostalgia. One that makes that single silent second a memory worth an eternity, hardly being able to comprehend the reality that it is a waken dream. Nothing hurts more than realizing that life is becoming death and, in return, nostalgia. It's hard to call the weight of grief with such a word of reminiscence, but what other way would we want to remember those we miss? ----------------------------------------------- When Zurie Dela Rey returns to her childhood home after the death of her estranged father, she encounters Elio Toro, the man who had taken care of her father's land in her absence and in his death. As past, present and future nostalgias build and burn bridges, they must learn to heal beside the rivers and vines of the land they both call home.