A brief nostalgic glance back into my submissive past...
Too bad I couldn't make a slideshow of this. Insert the theme music of your choice, I will be walking down memory lane accompanied by Dream a Little Dream sung/played by Louis Armstrong.
The Fighter - I wrote about him once. He asked for my panties. He was missing a bit of ear from a brawl. In retrospect, he was quite lovely.
The Misogynist - I've written of him as well. Shiver.
The Teacher - Ancient but wise. He fucked me with a dildo shaped like...well, you don't want to know. I've never orgasmed quite so deeply.
The Mentor - Kind man, came with a bristly mustache.
The Youth I - His red hair and shyness captured me. His cane caught me. His youth spoiled it.
The Youth II - Too much confusion.
The Weaklings - They came armed with gifts and a repressed desire to be submissive. None of us able to lead. (There were a few of these).
The Historian - I was trounced by his past. It still aches.
The Executive - I had to let go, I could never book an appointment.
The Healer - I've yet to pin him down, but it's a lasting friendship, if nothing else.
And, of course...
The Liars - Far too many. Not single, not straight, not many things but primarily not honest.
They are all like little porcelain figurines on a shelf. I don't forget. I won't forget.
What was I saying?
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