”Rose smiled up at me. “Did she specify me?”I nodded. “Why?” “I have a touch of the craving. If I try to sate it, it will only become wors..., and I will succumb completely to it.” She stared off into the woods, where Elena’s former slaves had disappeared, “And I rather die.” “Could it be that bad?” I mused, “I have succubus blood in me, and I don’t feel so bad. Shit, I feel fucking great.” I gave her a grin, “You could become my slave.” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Rose giggled. “Hey bro!”. The longest implementation was a few years.Occasionally, not very often, she would bring up an idea for me to consider. If I didn't like it, we didn't try it, and if I did like, we tried it. I knew that she was about to suggest something when she would start off saying, "Honey" or "Dear", instead of "Simon". She was accepting of my decision, because ultimately I would satisfy her every time. [Note to self: do I follow through on this]Things brings my story to about a month after our third. More

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