The small torus was perfect, its pale colour matching her skin, its location a delicious dream, a constant evocation of a deep secret, his and hers.
They had chosen the craftsman carefully, an old Chinese silversmith who knew his piercing, and was discrete.
She had been a little afraid, but trusted him, blindly.
For him it was symbolic of his coming of age: him, the master.
And for her, the beautiful slave, it was her pride: she belonged, she was owned.
Beautifully written!
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Lovely.
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Beautifully written, Honoré, as only you could. :))
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Very intriguing tale, I want to know more of their relationship!
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I love this… It’s beautiful.
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This is painfully beautiful.
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This is intriguing and satisfying. It’s one I read and then read again because of its elegant flow.
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