Sep 21 2015

And Now the News… – Part III By TeraS

We all come from somewhere and somewhen … For some, that tells not just their past, but their future, as well. But what is the cost of spending one’s truth for what amounts to a dare? Is that all there is? And, when the deed is done, was it the right thing to do?


And Now the News…
Part III
By TeraS


Life is always at some turning point, whether we know it or not. – As said by Tera to a visitor to the Realm whose way was lost and who sought to find it again


She awoke with a startle, unsure of what was real and what was not. She had a flash of memory of hiding herself away, of not allowing herself to feel: changing herself for others, taking their advice, doing things that she could never, would never do. But in all of the thoughts there was a truth she couldn’t shake away: she had given away one important thing for something not so. It bothered her that she did so. But she couldn’t place what it was.

A light hand touched her back, and her memories solidified as she realized where she was. Turning over she looked into a pair of blue-grey eyes and smiled.


“Hey. Did you sleep okay?”

She sighed as she snuggled closer, giggling a bit as she felt fingers teasing over her thighs: “Okay. Good enough.”

“Liar. You were not asleep at all. You kept pushing me away all night.”

A kiss shared, just a little nibbling of lips, then a deeper, more lustful kiss: tongues entwining, mewls of pleasure being shared between them both. She pecked her lover’s lips and whispered: “I’m sorry, was having nightmares, I guess.”

“You want to talk about them?”

She shook her head, blonde hair moving in waves around her as she did so: “No, I’m okay … stupid dreams, not worth talking about.”

“Uh-huh. What’s eating at you?”

She rolled away from her lover, looking up at the ceiling: “Important day … got a job interview. You have one, too, don’t you?”

Her lover smiled: “You know, you should come along, too. She’s really nice, and I think it’s going to be something special.”

She scrunched up her nose: “How do you know?”

A giggle in response: “Simple: I know I’ll be happy.”

“Not that simple.”

“Yes, it is.”

She rolled out of bed, looking over her shoulder and smiling: “Sure.”

Later, she was standing in line at the corner coffee shop, waiting her turn to call out a long complicated order for coffee, because that’s what everyone did, and, of course, she needed to fit in. But why did that bother her so much? She needed to make a mark, to leave an impression, and being one of them was the best way to do that.

Brushing a bit of lint from her business attire, she went over in her mind again what she would say, how she would approach the interviewer, and, most of all, attempt to influence their decision. She hated job interviews, and it showed. This time, she’d show them. It was her future and she needed to make it happen. If that meant burning bridges and leaving her past behind, then that was what she would do. Her thoughts were swirling around that conviction when she heard a voice behind her: “You know, you should be on television.”

She turned to look at the person that spoke those words and after a moment replied: “Do I know you?”

A grin in response: “Would be surprised if you didn’t. But that’s not important!”

It was her turn to order, which she did, then turned back around: “Are you trying to pick me up?”

“Hell no. You aren’t my type. But you are the type that could go far!”

She didn’t know how to take that. She was both incensed and, at the same time, aware of an opening to get what she wanted: “How far?”

“Come with me, let’s talk about what you are looking for. Won’t take much of your time.”

“I have other plans.”

Their voice was strongly compelling: “You did. But now you really want to see what we have to offer … don’t you?”

She took the coffee cup: “Alright. I’m open to suggestions.”

The reply was a little bit ominous: “I’m sure you are. In fact, I’m sure you’ll like every suggestion I have!”

As she left the coffee shop, her eyes flickered across a stunningly beautiful brunette sitting at a table nearby and looking at her. She paused in mid-stride, the hand holding the coffee cup crushing it slightly. She saw, sitting next to the brunette, a familiar presence. The two were talking. She felt a twinge of need. She wanted to explain, to tell this woman that she made a choice, the right one. Or was it?

She felt a need, a want, a desire to walk over to her. To speak with her, to listen, to learn. She turned slightly to go that way, but she felt a hand pushing against the middle of her back: “Let’s go. The board will want to meet with you and start putting plans in motion. You are going to be a star!”

As she passed through the doors, she startled, unsure of what was real and what was not. She had a flash of memory of being entwined in the arms of others, of being wanted, desired, cherished, of being part of a greater whole, of having a purpose, of worshipping, becoming, transforming, of being held, of looking to a pair of grey-blue eyes and crying out in bliss.

She stumbled, falling, the world fading from the everyday into what the song told her was real. She laid there, waiting, for the longest time. She wept for the other, the one that never knew of the song, never knew of being wanted. She shivered, thinking of what the other had lost in never becoming.

The loss …

A pair of so-green eyes regarded her: “Thrall.”

She quickly moved to the proper place, just as the song told. Back arched, legs parted slightly, hands laced together over her sex as she looked downwards. She was not worthy. Her clit thrummed, the yearning within begging her to submit to whatever was asked, to become … Hers.


A blink, her eyes cleared, and she startled. “What? Who? How?” In a panic, she moved to cover her nakedness. But then the song returned, smoothed over her concerns and worries. This was right, of course: the song told her so. Her thoughts turned towards the others in the room. The one called Song, who gazed with devotion. The one called Need, who knelt to Her side. There was a thought, a whisper that something was familiar—was right—about this.

The way her pussy quivered when She spoke just added to that belief within her: “The dream is there for you, Paige, if you desire.”

She wetted her lips: “I am not worthy.”

“At this moment, you are not. But you can be.”

She looked up, seeing a pair of so-green eyes considering her.

“I have news for you.” Delight that made her thighs slick from Her words: “One saw you as worthy.”

Paige cried out in need, holding onto the truth she had been told, trying to understand. She whimpered: “Please … who?”

“You know the answer.”

Paige fell onto her side, crying out as she realized who it was and what she had lost.

Paige then heard Her walk across the room. Then she felt Her hand against her bare shoulder. Then Paige gasped in ecstasy as she was held. Was this how they all felt? The thought made her sob quietly, thinking of everything she had given up for what she had. The words came; she couldn’t stop them: “I’m sorry.”

She replied: “I know. I know better now. So do you. Shall we return what is yours?”

Paige didn’t speak, only shaking her head in agreement as she was held, crying herself to sleep once more.


Skip to comment form

  1. avatar

    And the story goes to an unexpected place . . . and the delight increases . . .

    Thank you, Your Majesty.

  2. avatar

    Indeed… very unexpected but in a good sort of way.

    I must say I feel bad for Paige though.

    still love the story and waiting for more.



  3. avatar

    And needs to continue… sometime…


  4. avatar

    There are always possibilities . . . and we will get back to here . . .

  5. avatar

    Someday my heart… Promise.


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