A very short piece for today on the Tale. Mostly because what I wanted to write isn’t coming out in a way that makes any sense. Perhaps this will, at least some …
The first is always the one that stays with you…
It lies in a place of honour in Tera’s bedroom, over near the mirror where Tail watches—and so does Tera—past the doors that lead off into the Realm, there it rests, waiting. The table upon which it is placed lovingly is set so that it is the first thing seen when she awakes and the last thing seen before the lights dim and the room stills. It rests beneath a clear crystal cover, protected from anything that could disturb, harm, or worse, damage the object that the Succubi Queen holds so dear.
She regularly stands there, looking at the treasure beneath the glass, thinking about what was, what had been, what is, but is not exactly as it was. Sometimes she traces a finger over it, thinking about the meaning there, the promises made. She smiles as she remembers the first words spoken, the moment when the spark happened, the joy that she felt in that moment.
Sometimes she carefully lifts the cover away, setting it to the side. She looks, considers, reaches out to touch the special object, but hesitates. She remembers forming the curves, shaping the colour, bending it into existence.
Sometimes she rubs her fingertip over the edge, tracing her finger over it as she had done many times before, remembering his shiver of joy, the open submission in his eyes, the trust he placed in her, knowing that she cherishes him, loves him, only wishes to be what he desires always for him.
Sometimes she picks it up, holding it in front of her, gazing as the light of the room glints off the red and black that colours it, the clasp that displayed the binding of him to herself and her Tail, to give the love and control that his soul wished for and was given freely and returned in the same way.
She rubs the inner surface with her thumb, moving it between her fingers, the moments shared, the fears admitted, the truths shared, the desires awoken all flashing through her thoughts. She smiles, knowingly, as she recalls them all in wonder.
The memories are not jumbled, not unclear, never a maze to explore. They are a collage of the connection between a Domme and her love. Not a submissive, not a pet, not anything that takes away from what he means to her, but her love. She knows that his wishes were shaped by her desires, that he wished to be whatever she wished him to be. She remembers exploring his, and her own, desires. She thinks about the things they both discovered about themselves, about each other, and what those things mean.
The moments pass, the last arrives, and she smiles wanly, thinking about the moment when he took another step upon his path, moving forward towards the future unwritten and unseen by either of them.
She replaces the crystal cover once more where it was before, where it belongs, to protect that which is not hers alone, to keep safe that which belongs to one soul, one Love … always.
Sometimes, when she puts the cover back on, she remembers that he is still there; sometimes she can feel him more strongly than others. She keeps this safe for him, knowing that someday … someday …
She closes her eyes then, thinking of where he is now in the world. She imagines what he is doing at that moment, what wonders he sees, what things he is doing. Her love for him, how proud she is of him, is seen in the tears that form in the corners of her eyes.
With a wipe of her fingertips, she turns away, smiling, knowing a truth they shared that no one else can really know.
As Tera leaves, she calls out into the air: “Miss you, Love” …
… as she always does, as she always will, until the day when she sees him again.