In the final analysis, with Rene she had been an apprentice to love, she had loved him only to learn how to give herself, enslaved and surfeited, to Sir Stephen.
Pauline RéageTags: love sacrifice desperation
O was infinitely more moving when her body was covered with marks, of whatever kind, if only because these marks made it impossible for her to cheat and immediately proclaimed, the moment they were seen, that anything went as far as she was concerned. For to know this was one thing, but to see the proof of it, and to see the proof constantly renewed, was quite another.
Pauline RéageTags: story-of-o
To say that from the moment her lover had left, O began to await his return would be an understatement. She turned into pure vigil, darkness in waiting expectation of light.
Pauline RéageTags: story-of-o
As a matter of fact," the other voice went on, "if you do tie her up from time to time, or whip her just a little, and she begins to like it, that’s no good either. You have to get past the pleasure stage, until you reach the stage of tears.
Pauline RéageKeep me rather in this cage, and feed me sparingly, if you dare. Anything that brings me closer to illness and the edge of death makes me more faithful. It is only when you make me suffer that I feel safe and secure. You should never have agreed to be a god for me if you were afraid to assume the duties of a god, and we know that they are not as tender as all that. You have already seen me cry. Now you must learn to relish my tears.
Pauline RéageTags: love god faith dark suffering cruelty sacrifice slavery submission cage unfreedom undying-devotion
The fact that he gave her was to him a proof, and ought to be one for her as well that she belonged to him: one can only give what belongs to you.
Pauline RéageFinally a woman confesses! Confess what? What women never allowed themselves to confess. What men always criticized on them: they only obey the blood and everything is sex on them, even the spirit.
Pauline RéageTags: women sex confessions
Y es que René la dejaba libre y ella detestaba su libertad. Su libertad era peor que cualquier cadena.
Pauline Réage¿Que no era libre? Ah, gracias a Dios, no lo era. Pero se sentía ligera, una diosa sobre las nubes, un pez en el agua, colmada de felicidad.
Pauline RéagePage 1 of 1.
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.