In truth, Will did run our lives. His wishes ruled our household. I was grateful for the guidance in mundane and worldly matters. It was comforting having him at the helm. I wasn’t helpless—I could take care of myself if I needed to—but I didn’t want to. With Will making the decisions, it took the pressure off me and I was free to create.
Over two years passed from our first bold contracts of fidelity, mastery and submission. And though the fantasy hadn’t fallen into disgrace, the ritual had. When we talked about our failure, there was still a degree of longing in me—the hungering submissive at my core wanted to try again, but we needed some other form, and that was not yet clear to either of us.
Haliday House stirred the beast again, and the fantasies began to flourish as raw and focuse
