Category Archives: fantasy

The Meeting – Part III

Startled by the sudden shift, Sylvia watches their server appear as if by magic.  As he had warned, Daniel orders for them both, which makes Sylvia feel very odd.  She can’t describe the feeling to herself – it’s not unpleasant, and actually makes her feel – cared for, she thinks.  How odd.

The server’s expression is unreadable,  and Sylvia, sitting there silently, wonders what the other woman is thinking of her.

“No, no wine,” says Daniel, “bring us both some hot tea, please”

Sylvia wonders how he decided on hot tea for her to drink.  She loves tea, but how did he know that?  For a moment, she thinks he must be a mind-reader.  Then he says, “Hot tea, right?  That’s often what you’re drinking while we’re on-line.”

Relieved, she says, “Yes – yes, Sir.  I drink hot tea a lot.”

He nods.  Then, “So what made you first think you might be submissive?”

The question throws her off balance again, but she says, “Oh – I – it was some books I read.  You know, I told you about my friend, Jamie, and how she’d loan me books, and some of them had,” her voice drops and she looks down, “spanking and you know, stuff like that in them.  Sir.”

“Yes,” he says, “You did tell me that.  But what was it, specifically, that made you think that you might be submissive?”

Oh!  Well, um, you know, it turned me on.  The books.  Sir.”  She’s still looking at the table, tracing the ring of water around her glass again.

“Look at me,” he says.  He waits for her to meet his eyes, then, “This is not something to be ashamed of.  Being a submissive can be a wonderful thing.  The shame would be in letting your natural urges and desires go to waste.  Have you not talked about this with anyone?”

“No, Sir, no, I haven’t.  Just you, when we’ve talked on line.”

“Give me your hand,” he says, taking the hand she has on the table in his hand.  He turns it over, palm up.  Strokes her fingers until they are open and relaxed.  “Are you legs still open?” he asks.

She is suddenly very aware that she has crossed her legs.  Quickly she uncrosses them.  “No – omigosh, no, Sir,” she says, “they weren’t, I had crossed them without even thinking about it.  I’m sorry.  They’re not crossed any more.”

“Good girl,” he says.  “Now open them a little bit wider.  Keep your hand open, yes, just like that, on the table.  Good, that’s it, yes”

Sylvia is trembling, she thinks she’s been naked before and not felt this exposed.

The server brings the tea, setting a basket with a variety of types, two pots of hot water, and two cups in front of them.  Sylvia starts to move her hand, but Daniel catches her eye and shakes his head “no,” almost imperceptibly.  She freezes, and they wait while the server finishes arranging the tea in front of them.

Then, “Your job right now,” says Daniel, “is to keep your hand nice and relaxed and open right here, and your legs open – they don’t have to be relaxed, but I want them open – while we talk a little bit.  I’ll take care of the tea bags this time.  Another time, I’ll allow you to serve me, but this time I want you to stay just the way you are.  Clear?”

“Yes – yes, Sir,” says Sylvia.  She is barely breathing, so eager to do this right, so anxious about what he might ask her, so willing to please.

In fact, “Breathe,” he says, “it’s ok to breathe.”  He waits while she takes a deep breath. Then, “So you were reading the books that your friend Jamie loaned you, and they had spankings and what did you say? ‘Stuff like that’ in them?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“So tell me specifically, what about that made you think that you might be submissive?  Take your time, think back.  What did you notice?”

Sylvia bites her lip, “Well they turned me on.  I was shocked, I didn’t know that would happen, but they did.”

“‘They turned me on’ is pretty vague,” Daniel says gently.  “Specifically.  What. Turned you on?

“Oh, the spanking, the spanking for sure.”  Blushing, “And I kind of knew that maybe spanking turned me on, but then he would, the Dom would tell her to do things, or make her do things, and that would turn me on.”

“Make her do things?”  His voice is soft and amused.

“Yes, and honestly it didn’t matter what he was telling her to do, it could be some crazy sex thing that I can’t even imagine doing or he could be telling her to, you know, um, bend over his lap, or just anything.  I guess it would have turned me on if he’d told her to pick up his dry-cleaning.  I was so shocked at myself.”  Talking about it turns out to be a relief.  Now that she’s started, she’s interested in hearing what she’s going to say next.

“How did it feel?  When you were turned on, what was that like?”

“Oh.”  She stops to think.  He strokes her palm, which is still open on the table, and she loses her train of thought all together.   He stops, places his index finger in the center of her palm, and holds it there.

She can’t look away, it is as if he’s impaled her with that one finger, as if he has taken control of her that simply.  Overwhelming and scary and arousing, and she’s frozen, the sensation of that one finger is enough to make everything else fade away.

Until the server arrives again, food in hand, and he moves his finger away and she can’t help it, she snatches her hand back like she’s been burnt, and maybe she has.  He raises an eyebrow at her, but she can’t help it.  She crosses her ankles and stares at the table while the food is served.  She’s in such turmoil – she’s disappointed him, and she doesn’t know what he’ll do next and – this is so hard.  It’s just so hard.

And she wants it so much.

The Meeting – Part II

Before Sylvia can respond – and what would she have even said? – Daniel opens one of the menus in front of them, quite casually, as if he had not just informed her that at some point in their time together, he was going to tell her to touch her nipples.   “What do you prefer generally – chicken or vegetarian meals?”

Sylvia manages to bring her attention back to food.  “Um, I eat chicken, I like chicken ok, but I probably eat more vegetarian than anything else.”  She’s surprised that he’s asking her opinion.  “I thought you were going to just order for me.”

He smiles, “I am.  But it’s ok for you to have opinions and preferences, and of course I want to know what they are.  That doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll do what you would prefer, but I like to know when I’m going to choose something that will be uncomfortable for you.”

Sylvia feels a bit dazed – his words stir something in her that she has not known before.  When he says that he wants to know her opinions and preferences, it touches her deeply.   The intensity of his interest is new and arousing.  She is even more surprised to discover that the idea of him wanting her to do something that would be uncomfortable for her is even more arousing, and she shivers.  What has she gotten herself into here?

“Do you like spicy food?”

“Oh.  No, not really.  I mean, spicy’s ok, but not hot-spicy.”

He nods slightly, than says, “I think I may not have been clear earlier.  When you answer a question, or address me, you’re to call me ‘Sir.’  Do you understand?”

“Oh!”  Sylvia is embarrassed, of course he told her that and she totally forgot.  He must think she’s an idiot.  “Yes, I’m sorry, of course I understand — Sir!  Yes, Sir.”

He grins.  “Maybe you need to practice a bit.  Let’s try this.  Repeat after me:  “Yes, Sir, I will remember to call you Sir.”

Sylvia repeats it, stumbling just a bit, it does seem odd to call him Sir.  But she gets through it ok.

Then, “Now add this,” he says, “I call you Sir as a sign of respect and to indicate my submissive nature.”

She feels a wave of excitement, and shudders.  Her pussy throbs, and she’s shocked to realize that she’s scared and turned on, maybe more turned on than she’s ever been.  Scared at how much this arouses her.  And he has not even touched her.  An image of him telling her to touch her nipples flashes through her mind and she bites her lip.  Will she obey him when he says that?

He tilts his head, watching her closely.  “Say it,” he says.  “I call you Sir as a sign of respect and to indicate my submissive nature.”

Haltingly, she repeats his words – “I call you Sir — as a sign of respect —” that part’s easy, it’s the end that’s tough, but he gives her an encouraging nod, and she manages, “and to indicate – my – submissive nature.”  As she finishes the last words, her heart is beating wildly, but she feels greatly relieved.

“Good girl,” he says, and a sense of soaring elation – her heart filling with pleasure at those words – almost overwhelms her.  She blurts out, “I really am, aren’t I?  Sir.  I really am – you know, I really am – submissive.  Sir.”

“Oh, yes,” he says.   “I think you really are.  I’m certainly enjoying playing with you.  Now, I want to hear the whole thing again, before I order lunch.  From the top – do you remember?”

Her eyes wide she shakes her head, no, she doesn’t – how did it start?

“That’s ok,” he says, “If I were actually training you, I’d expect you to remember, but not yet  Pay attention now.  Repeat after me:  “Yes, Sir, I will remember to call you Sir.  I call you Sir as a sign of respect and to indicate my submissive nature.”

Still haltingly, she repeats it.  He nods, “Again, please.”

It is easier this time, and when she says, “my submissive nature,” she can feel it in her body, a softening.  He must sense it too, because he says, “Again, but open your legs just a bit wider this time.”

Her pussy clenches.  Her body feels heated, and she obeys him slowly and deliberately, watching him as she spreads her legs a bit wider.  He nods.  “Now say it again.”

This time, she says it slowly, deliberately, looking directly at him.  This time she says it with a hint of promise, a tinge of seduction.

His eyes are warm and kind and intense.  She feels like she’s melting into his gaze.  As she says the last words, “… my submissive nature,” she bites her lower lip.  Right now, she thinks, right now, I would do anything he tells me to do.

It scares the crap out of her.

But he only smiles.  And picks up the menu.  “Salad for you, I think.  They have a salad with warm vegetables that I think you’ll enjoy.”



The Meeting

It’s not what she expected – the bar.  She’d been thinking it would be a fancy kind of place, but this is more of a family bar and restaurant.  Almost homey.

She recognizes him from his picture.  Well, and he has the look – you know, the look of someone waiting for someone they don’t already know.  Will he recognize her?

But she has the look too, so of course he does, he stands up and smiles, watching her walk toward him.

“Sylvia?” he says.

“Yes.  Daniel?”  He nods and steps forward, offers a handshake.  His hand is much larger than hers, just as he’s much taller than she is.  She feels tiny next to him.

And self-conscious.  She has dressed carefully, not sure what to expect, but now she wishes she hadn’t gone with such a demure look.  A little bit sexier, maybe some cleavage, might have been better.  Too late to worry about it now though.

He gestures to the hostess, who quickly directs them to a table.  A booth.  He waits for her to slide in and hesitates.  For a second, she thinks he’s going to slide in next to her, but he seats himself across from her.

“I’m glad you decided to meet me,” he says.  “I’ve enjoyed talking to you on-line and getting to know you a little bit, but this is much better.  Are you nervous?”

“Oh, yes!” she says, then, afraid she’s been rude, she adds, “A little bit.”

“A lot, I’d say,” he says, laughing.  “That’s ok.  You have plenty of reason to be nervous, and there’s no point in me telling you not to be. ”

The server arrives with two glasses of water and menus.  “We’ll need a few minutes,” Daniel says.

Sylvia sips the water, starts to open the menu, but Daniel puts his hand on the menu to stop her.  Startled, she looks up.

“Let’s review what we’re doing,” he says.

The butterflies in Sylvia’s stomach are dancing now as she looks at him.  This is what she’d wanted, and now she’s excited and scared and ~ he is so calm and in control.  “Yes?” she says, not meaning it to be a question.

“We agreed,” he says, “that this would be a practice run – that we would have lunch together as if you were sure you’re submissive.  As if you thought you might want to be my submissive – as if I thought I might want to be your Dominant.  Correct?”


He smiles.  “So we start with basics.  I’ll be in control of the meal today.  Do you have any food allergies, or any food you can’t eat.?”

Sylvia shakes her head, “No, not really.”

“Then I’ll be in charge of ordering for both of us.  Next.  For today, just to see what it feels like, you will address me as Sir.  So the correct answer to that question was, ‘No, not really, Sir.’  Go ahead and say it correctly, please.”

Sylvia feels her mouth go dry.  She licks her lips, and then feels self-conscious about that.  She can barely breathe, but she forces the words out, “Um, no, not really ~ um, Sir.”

He laughs.  “Not bad” he says.  “Try it again – wait, I’ll cue you this time.  Do you have any food allergies, or food you can’t eat?”

And somehow Sylvia manages to say it smoothly this time, “No, not really, Sir.”

He smiles.  “Good girl.  Go ahead and take a sip of your water.”

Obediently, she sips, and has to smile when he immediately says, “good girl.”  Something about those words make her feel warm.  But then ~

“Now, uncross your legs,” he says.

Startled, she uncrosses them automatically, and he says, “Yes, good.  How does that make you feel?”  She doesn’t know how to answer that, she shakes her head uncertainly.

“Right,” he says.  “That’s a lot of question.  How does it feel to be told what to do?”

“It feels scary,” she says, adding quickly, “Scary, Sir.”

“Just scary?”

“Well.  Um.  Um, you know.”  She doesn’t want to tell him it turns her on, but the heat between her legs is intense.  He waits, watching her curiously.  “It ~ um,” she looks down at the table, one finger tracing the circle of water her glass has made, “it, um, kind of, well, it kind of turns me on.”

He nods.  “I thought it might.  That’s really good.  That will make it easier for you to be obedient.”

When he says that, “obedient,” in those tones, her pussy throbs and she blushes.

“Now,” he says, “One more thing and we’ll order some lunch.  Open your legs.”

“What?” she gasps, sure she’s misunderstood.

“Open your legs,” he says, a bit stern.  “No one can see you under this booth – I can’t even see you under this booth.  But I want you to learn to be open to me, and this is a good way to begin.  Do it now.”  Hie is pleasant and firm.  “Open your legs.”

“Ye-es, Sir.”  And she does it.  Slowly, still hesitant, but she opens her legs.  She is wet, and more aware of it now.

“Good girl,” he says, smiling.  “I’m not going to touch you while we’re here, but before we’re done, I’m going to tell you to touch your own nipples for me.  Not now,” he adds quickly, as if he were concerned that she would do it too soon.  “But before we’ve finished lunch, I’m going to ask you to do that.  Touch your nipples until they’re hard.  Just thought I would warn you.”

Her nipples begin to tingle at the idea, which makes her pussy throb and she lowers her head, but “Look at me,” he says.  She raises her eyes and “That makes you hot, doesn’t it?” he says.

Embarrassed, but honest, “Yes.  Yes, Sir, it does.”

His Cock

“No,” he says.

“No?”  i’m not sure what he’s talking about. i look up at him, mouth still open, ready to slide his cock into my mouth.

“No,” he says.  “Not yet.  Stay right there, with your mouth open and ready.  It’s ok to breathe, the warmth of your breath feels good, but you may not touch my cock yet.   Wait for instructions.”

i nod, barely moving my head, focusing on keeping my mouth right where it was when he stopped me.  The head of his cock is actually part way into my mouth, my mouth encircles it without touching it.  He has my full attention now.

“When I say you can start, then I want you to just lick the head of my cock slowly for a while.   Then you may take just the top part into your mouth and wait for more instructions.  Is that clear?”

My response is more grunt than words.  i’m focusing hard on keeping my mouth in place without touching him.

“I take it that’s a yes,” he says, and i can hear laughter n his voice.  “Good girl – your mouth needs to be used for something other than talking.”

More seconds go by, then, “You may begin,” he says.

Slowly, carefully, with great respect, i begin to lick his cock.  The skin feels soft and velvety under my tongue, and i shiver with pleasure that he allows me to do this.  i take my time, making sure to lick every single bit of the head of his cock, using the tip of my tongue, and then the flat part.

When i think he is adequately lubricated, i open my mouth wide, forming an O, and slide the head of his cock in, letting my lips close around it.  i gently press my tongue against it.

“Just like that,” he says, “Good girl.”

My heart swells with joy – i hope he will let me spend a long time pleasing him this way.

How Many?

Dancing in the kitchen, radio blasting, hands busy with the mundane, i don’t hear him behind me ~

~ i feel his hands on my waist, his breath on my neck.

i gasp and smile. His hands move up to rub my breasts, pinch my nipples.  i let my head fall back on his shoulder.  He wraps one arm around me, anchoring me securely against him, whispers, “slut.”

“I’m going to let you go,” he says.  “When I do, I want you to pull down your pants and bend over the kitchen table.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,”

i have learned to move quickly when he tells me these things, in seconds, my pants are down, and i’m bent over the table, ass exposed.  i hear him moving behind me, i know what he’s doing.  It’ll be the wooden spoon, it’s always the wooden spoon at these times.

Predictable ~ the wooden spoon ~ and novel.  There will be something novel too, i don’t know what.

“How many?  How many shall I give you?”

“However many you want to give me, Sir,” i say, sure this is the right answer.  But not today.

“No, you pick how many.”

Damn.  i don’t want to ~ i know this is somehow not going to go well.  His hand strokes my ass, then i feel the spoon moving lightly over my skin.  i shiver.

“How many?”  Calm but relentless.

Ok, ok.  “Um, um, four.  Four sounds right.”

“Four?  Four on each cheek, or four all together?”

“Um, all together.  Please, Sir.”

“I’m not sure that’s the right number,” he says, “But we can try it.”

The spoon lands, hard and fast, twice on each cheek, i barely have time to cry out before he’s done.

He strokes my ass, which is burning already where the blows have landed.  He taps me very lightly with the spoon on the insides of my thighs.  “No,” he says, “I don’t think that was the right number.  Let’s try again.  How many this time?”

“Um, i don’t know, Sir, i don’t know.”  i’m squirming a bit, this ‘pick a number’ thing is not going to go well, i already know.

“Come on,” he says,  “Pick a number.  I’ll make it easier, not just any number, but a number between 4 and 100.  We’ll eliminate anything over 100.  For now.”

“Omigod, Sir,” i’m giggling, “That doesn’t make it easier, ok, ok, six, i pick six.”

“Six.”  He sounds thoughtful.  “It’s a good number.  Let’s see if it works.  But slower this time, don’t you think?  I think I went too fast last time, let’s make it last a bit longer.  Agreed?”

And WHACK, the spoon strikes my left cheek, hard, and, “Yes, Sir,” i say quickly.  “Yes, Sir.”

“I hope this turns out to be the right number,” he says, doubtfully,and WHACK, my right cheek is burning in a new place.

His fingers probe between my legs, “Wet,” he says.  “You are such a slut.”  Fingers removed, i gasp, and the spoon hits the back of my right thigh.

i cry out.

He laughs.

Back of my left thigh.  O!!  O, that hurts.

“Stick your ass out more,” he says.  “Just two more.  Although ~ you know, I’m still not sure six was the right number.  But let’s try these two, yeah right here,” hands on my ass, “So you can feel it when you sit down…”

But Sir…



“No, that chair is not for you.  On the floor.  Here.  At my feet.”

“But Sir ~~”

“Ass up, then.  Now.”

“But ~~”

“Yes, butt up, if you prefer.  That’s six you’ve earned.  Do you want more?

“No, Sir!  No.  Sir.”

i hear the belt, the whoosh as he pulls it free.  i am braced, head down, hands locked behind my neck, naked ass in the air.

The belt strokes the inside of my thighs.  “Open,” he says.

i shift my weight, spreading my legs more widely.

The door bell rings  He laughs.  “Don’t move.  Our first guest has arrived.”

“But Sir!”

He laughs, his voice fading as he moves down the hall, toward the door.  “That’s nine.  Nine hard ones.”

Repossessed – 12

i am so shocked, so scared, i start shaking, my heart’s racing, and i think i’m gonna die, right there.  i can’t believe this is happening ~ whatever this is ~ i don’t know who or why, and omigod, am i in trouble?

Someone’s hands tug at the mask that blinds me, other hands push them away, Master’s voice breaks through the babble of voices around me.  “Easy,” he says, “easy, it’s ok.  Let me wrap you up here,” and the blanket is draped around me, he releases my arms, and  helps me sit up.

i sit, my feet dangling over the edge of the platform, pressed close to his body, then he removes the mask.  He is standing in front of me, so all i can see is his shirt, and i’m ok with that.  The voices around me fall silent.

Then i peek to one side and omg ~ it’s that man ~ the one who sold me the chance on a new life,  the one who showed up in my bedroom to whisk me away.  What.  the Fuck.  What now??

He bows to me, just a half-bow, and says, “I’m so sorry ~ I didn’t want to do this like this ~ so abruptly ~ but he left me no choice, this one didn’t,” and he nods to Master.

“And I’m sorry too,” says Master, who stands so close, i can see his chest rise and fall with his breath.  “I thought I had time, I didn’t think it would happen this fast.”

“What?!” i say.  “WHAT are you talking about?”  i realize that i’m talking, and hold my breath for a second, expecting the wrath of Master to fall on me.  When nothing happens, i’m even more confused, and angry.   i’ve been snatched from my home and spent time in some ~ some ~ i don’t even know what it was ~ some kind of harem ~ and then i get brought here and ~ and ~

“WHAT?” i say, “What are you doing?  What have you done to me?”  And i burst into tears.

i cry for a long time, someone brings me Kleenex and Master wipes my eyes. i cry some more.    Finally, with a last sob, i manage to stop.  i wipe at my face with the stupid mitten things on my hands, and he holds the kleenex so i can i blow my nose.

He’s still patting me too.   As if that can help.  i’ve never felt so lost and miserable and alone ever before.

i push him away, and he lets me.  i try to wrap the blanket around me, but i can’t do anything with the mittens on.  i’m about to start crying again when he realizes the problem, and unties the little strings to take the mittens off me.  i clasp the blanket tightly.

i take a deep breath.  Another.  And look around.

Men.  And women.  Nelda and Joy, and men i don’t know.  Master.  And the man who made all this happen.  i look at him.  “Why is this happening?” i ask.  “Please ~ i don’t understand any of it.”

“It’s hard to explain,” he says, “but I’ll try.  My name is Qadar.”  i don’t really understand ~ “Cutter?’ i say, “That’s your name?”

He nods and smiles, “That’s close. Some people say it more like, “Gutter,” but you’re close enough.  And my name doesn’t matter.  You may remember me ~”

And i interrupt him, angry all over again, “O, yes,” i say, “i remember you.  You sold me a chance on a new life.  i thought you just needed money and had made up a funny way to ask for a hand-out.  That’s what i thought.  Next thing i know…” i shake my head.  “This makes no sense.”

“No,” he says, “Of course it doesn’t.  Let me try to explain.  My job is to find people who are not living the life that suits them.  The life you had ~ it wasn’t right for you.  You have gifts that were not being used, you were not appreciated by the people around you, and you had little hope and few resources to make it different.  You remember, don’t you?”

i’m quiet for a minute, really looking back.  So much has happened so quickly that my “real” life seems far away and long ago.  i had been lonesome, dreadfully lonesome, and sad.  For a long time.  When i bought that chance on a new life, i really did want one.

Then i’m ashamed, ashamed that my life was so pitiful that i was ready to throw it away without knowing what was in store for me.  But Qadar says, “No, no, little one, it was not your fault, you were in the wrong place.  That’s why i was sent to you, you needed to leave.”

“Okay,” i say slowly, “okay, maybe i was.  But even then, that doesn’t explain what’s happening now.  You sent me here, now you want to take me away again?”

He nods, slowly and sadly.  “And for this, I am so very sorry.  I learned, after you had landed here, I learned that you were supposed to have gone to a different life.  This is not where you were supposed to go.”

“O.”  i am surprised.  Taken aback.  “But why not just say so?  Why go through all this ~ this drama?”

“Yeah, that’s my fault,” says Master.  “He told me you weren’t supposed to be here, but I didn’t believe him.  Still don’t.   I’ve trained a lot of slaves, that’s what I know about.  And you have the heart of a slave, you’re born for service.  I was telling the truth earlier.  You need to offer service like other people need to eat and sleep.  And I can train you to do that in ways that will be more satisfying and fulfilling than you can imagine.”

“But ~” i turn toward Qadar, who is shaking his head solemnly.

“That is why I had to go get the order,” he says.  “I knew that was the only way to stop him.  And I had to stop him.”  He glares at Jon when he says this, and Jon glares back.  “So now,” Qadar adds, “It’s up to you.   I’m supposed to move you to a different life, the one that was meant for you in the beginning.”

“But I think you should stay here,” says Master.

i ignore Master ~ and is he even Master anymore?

“Where will you take me?” i ask Qadar.

“Another life,” he says, and before i can ask him more, he says, “No, that’s all I can tell you.  I’m so sorry, that’s all I can tell you about another life.”

“Wait ~ no, you’re kidding me, right?  i can pick whether or not i want to stay here, but you won’t tell me what the other option is?”

“I’m so sorry, but no, I can’t tell you.  And now, because he(glaring at Master) “has started to bond with you, you have to choose.  I can’t just take you away like I did the first time.”

“Omg, you have GOT TO be frigging kidding me!  i have to choose between an unknown life and this?”

“Yes,” Qadar nods solemnly.  Master is nodding too.

“But ~ when do i have to decide?”

“Well, pretty much now,” Qadar says.  “If not, I will have to send you back to your former life and that would be a tragic waste.  Even staying here would be better than that.  So, it is up to you.  But it’s midnight now, you must decide before sunrise.”


This story has been passed from slave to slave, handed down through the centuries, but the ending was lost ages ago.   No one knows if slave girl 248 was allowed to ask any other questions before making her decision, or what she decided, or whether she lived happily ever after  ~ or not.  For all i know, she couldn’t decide at all, and was sent back to her miserable little first life, although I don’t like to think that could have happened.

No, I have my own ideas about what might have happened, but i want to ask you  ~ what do you think she chose?  What would you choose?