All my life, I've been aware that there's more to life than what I’ve known and achieved so far. I can't help but feel that it's time for a great adventure agai.

Growing up, my mom's friends always said I’d be a heartbreaker. I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but I know I’m a beautiful woman in my mid-thirties.

As a child, I dreamed of being rich, lounging in the sun, traveling to new places, and living the life of my dreams. I wanted to drive sports cars, be surrounded by tall, sexy, handsome men, and experience the hottest romance with the best of them.

Guess what? Most of that came true. I'm rich, I've had the best of everything. I’ve been with incredible men, stayed in fancy hotels across the globe, and lived life to the fullest. You name it, I’ve had it. But now, it’s time for one final adventure. An adventure that could either change or break me and this is where my story begins—with one small twist.

I was on a flight from my hometown to Bloemfontein, where I’d take a private plane to Barkley East and then drive the last hour to my destination. I was in the plane’s bathroom when we hit some nasty turbulence, tossing me around in that tiny space. The flight attendant helped me back to my seat, and I asked her for some water, feeling a bit shaken.

The man sitting next to me—how do I even describe him? He was gorgeous. As he handed me the glass of water, his touch sent shockwaves through my body. He had bright emerald-green eyes behind silver-framed glasses, a clean-shaven face, and lips so smooth, shaped with a perfect V-line. His hair was neatly cut, with a sexy parting, and he was dressed in smart, fashionable clothing. Oh, and he smelled amazing!

"Are you okay, Rebecca?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Hearing my name suddenly jolted me. “How long have we been on this flight?” I asked, feeling disoriented.

“We’re landing soon. Are you sure you’re okay, Rebecca?” he repeated.

“I don’t know, I feel a little hazy. Have we been talking this whole time?”

“Yes, we have. We’ve been discussing your plans for this trip—the places you’ll visit, the people you’ll meet. It sounds like a fantastic adventure! The spot you picked will be covered in snow for about three months.”

“I think I might have some memory loss from getting knocked around in the bathroom,” I admitted.

As we prepared to land, Archie (that was his name) handed me his business card, saying I should call him if I had any issues. He mentioned he'd be in Lady Grey for a few days if I needed any help.

Now, getting to the bottom of this memory loss is my top priority. Who is Rebecca? And why is she on this exciting adventure?

Archie helped me with my luggage, and I took a taxi to a coffee shop in town. I found my map and notes while ordering a tall glass of orange juice. For now, I just have to trust the map and notes to guide me, hoping something will jog my memory.

According to my notes, my destination is Rhodes, a picturesque village with Victorian-era charm, surrounded by rivers and breathtaking mountains. It’s a place for adventure lovers—fly fishing, quad biking, horse riding, hiking, and of course, alpine skiing, which is what drew me here. My notes even mention getting "lost in the Castle with a handsome Knight of Rhodes." Seems like past-me had some romantic plans!

I’ve rented a home for the week, for privacy. The first thing on my list is to pick up the keys at the local inn. I also needed to rent a car, so I opted for a Jeep, ideal for navigating the heavy snowfall in some areas.

Rhodes is buzzing with tourists, all hoping for the snow to last a little longer. With some help, I found the inn, got my keys, and unlocked my new home for the week. It’s beautiful, cozy, and immaculately clean, with the heaters already on, making it feel warm and inviting.

After unpacking, I found some intriguing clothes that might help jog my memory. I feel a bit lost and anxious, hoping my memories will return soon.

Later, after a light meal, I started a fire in the fireplace and settled down on the carpet with a mug of hot cocoa. The soft orange glow from the flames felt comforting. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through messages from friends, but nothing sparked recognition. However, in my memos, I found more details about my week ahead.

Tomorrow, I’ll meet Philip at the ski resort for my first lesson. On Thursday, I have lunch with someone named Allen—he's sending a car to pick me up, and my notes say I should wear something “sexy and a little out of fashion.” That must be why I packed that green button-up dress with the tan coat. Allen again appears in my plans on Saturday for a mysterious date, the details of which he’ll provide later. I wonder what kind of relationship we have.

One note, however, caught my eye, marked with stars: “Submission when fear is in the mind.” What does that even mean?

I flicked through some photos on my phone, hoping to recognize Allen, but nothing seemed familiar.

The next day at my ski lesson, I noticed the way Philip looked at me, but I wasn’t thrilled about it. I kept falling, and he was quick to help me up each time for the first hour. After three hours in the snow, we headed to the resort restaurant for lunch and some hot coffee.

As I took off my gloves, his hand brushed against mine, sending electric shockwaves through my body. I didn’t show it, though, and quickly slipped my hands into my pockets. Inside one of them, I felt a piece of paper. Pulling it out, I unfolded it and read the note quietly in my lap: "You should be at your peak performance and just go with the flow with Philip, just like in the movies."

I paused for a moment, asking myself, What now?

After finishing our coffee, I thanked Philip and set my hands back on the table, idly playing with a teaspoon.

“Ready for a little adventure?” he asked, standing up.

“I’m in your hands for the day,” I replied, unsure of what else to say.

Back on the ski slope, I followed him along the tree line. We came to a spot where the snow was breathtaking, and a light fog lingered over the mountains. I noticed a few bungalows in the distance but decided to wait and see what Philip had planned.

It didn’t take long to figure it out. As we approached one of the bungalows, I knew this was going to be an adventure, and I decided to just go with the flow. I won’t get into all the details, but let's just say it was electrifying. I made a mental note to keep my distance from Philip for the rest of the trip—he’s trouble, the kind that gets under your skin in all the right ways. If I were ten years younger, I might have considered keeping him around as a plaything. He has a way of making a woman groan with pleasure!

Later that night, I was back at my place, cozy in front of the fireplace with some salt, lemon, and a bottle of tequila. I couldn’t stop thinking about the note from earlier: Submission when fear is in the mind. What did it mean?

I sipped my tequila, pondering. I’m a sexual person, comfortable with my body, and experienced in various pleasures and styles. I enjoy challenges, even extreme ones, and I’m no stranger to the pain that sometimes comes with passion. I opened my phone and Googled "fear and sex." The results kept me engrossed for hours—there’s a lot to say about fear in the context of sex.

The next day, I prepared for my lunch date with Allen. I’ve mastered the art of subtle makeup, and as I finished dressing, I felt another piece of paper deep in my coat pocket.

“He would be disappointed if I wore more than five things for the lunch date.” What the hell?

I took stock: Dress and coat, a must. Boots and socks, of course. Swapping my bra and panties for a lace teddy. That’s five.

I took a final glance at myself in the hallway mirror. So, this is Rebecca. Brunette, hazel-brown eyes, average height, and not too slim. I do keep in shape. My ID says I’m thirty-five, born in South Africa. My airline tickets confirm Johannesburg is my hometown. No husband, no kids.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts—my ride had arrived.

At the castle, I was led to a large hall filled with people dressed in old-fashioned attire. I was given time to wander the gallery, looking at photos of Rhodes Village, a South African monument since 1997. After a few glasses of wine, I settled at the bar. I didn’t want to drink anymore, but then, out of nowhere, Allen appeared in front of me.

I recognized him immediately. My memory came flooding back. Allen is tall and built like Arnold Vosloo from The Mummy—strong, with soft baby blue eyes that could make anyone weak at the knees.

“Allen,” I said, nodding.

“Rebecca, you look as beautiful as ever.”

“So do you, though not dressed for my honor tonight.”

“Are you ready?” he asked, offering me his arm.

“I am. The day isn’t waiting for anyone.”

I knew the rules. Once back in the car, I put on my adjustable leather blindfold—it looked like dark sunglasses from afar. This was a tradition, an annual event. I trusted Allen implicitly, though I didn’t yet know the specifics of the rules for today.

The village wasn’t large, so the drive didn’t take long. Allen helped me out of the car, and with my hand on his arm, he led me toward the castle. We went up steps, through doors, and up more steps. The air grew colder as we climbed.

I couldn’t ask questions with the blindfold on, not until Allen said I could. This was where the phrase submission when fear is in the mind came into play. Trust, obey, and enjoy.

When the final door opened, I heard the crackling of a fire and the sound of running water, perhaps from a fountain. The room was cold, but my mind was heating up. I’d been dreaming of a moment like this, where physical cold contrasts with internal heat. Allen had always told me to trust him, and I did, from the very beginning.

The room could be arranged any way Allen wanted. He called it his new playroom for Rebecca. For the next few hours, he would be my master, and I would submit to the pleasure he chose to give me. Our rules were fluid; we made them up as we went along, and Allen loved impossible challenges—he enjoyed counting the ways he could pleasure me.

I stood still as Allen removed my coat.

“Coat, one.”

“Boots, two.”

“Socks, three.”

“Dress, four.”

Each item was carefully removed, except for number five. I stood there, waiting.

“Oh wow! Holy shit, Rebecca! You’re full of surprises. I love the lace teddy—you always look incredible and take such good care of yourself.”

I smiled, nodding my thanks.

“But wait! What’s this?”

“Six... earrings!”

“That’s disappointing. What do you think we should do about that?”

He let me kneel next to him, his fingers exploring my body, teasing me with light touches that sent shivers through me. Each time he brushed my pussy, I longed for him to go further.

“That’ll be two slaps for two earrings, right?”

I nodded.

Two sharp slaps on my bum and the ice was broken. I knew I wouldn’t see that teddy again. It was his right to keep it.

“What do you say?” he asked.

“Thank you, Allen.”

The rest of the night unfolded in ways that were both thrilling and intimate.

“You want more?” he asks.

“Yes! Please, give me more!” I scream.

He dials up all the knobs on the machine, and my body starts moving in sync with it. The cold begins to turn into sweat from the nearby fireplace, and the soft music in the background makes my body and face glisten with wetness. He smacks my bottom again and rubs my back, causing me to bend down further as he pulls my head up and then down. He knows I’m getting close.

“Moan and scream as loud as you want, Rebecca. I want to hear you,” he says, smacking me again and again. He turns the dildo up faster, and with every inch, I scream louder, moving my body in ways I never thought possible while on all fours.

Now, realizing I'm almost there, he pulls the dildo out, replacing it with his fingers, rubbing my clit with hot gel on his fingertips.

“Yes! Oh yes, don’t stop! Oh my lord,” I moan, my body dripping with sweat, completely out of control as he turns the dildo to the highest setting.

A few times, he has to push it back in when I pull away too far. My moans and the way his fingers tease my clit tell him I’m already past the point of no return. I squirt into his hand, my entire body trembling, my skin quivering with wetness. Watching me shake gives Allen immense pleasure.

“Rebecca, cum for me one last time. Let my hand feel your throbbing clit. Let it go, girl, and enjoy it,” Allen says, stopping the machine with the remote in his hand.

I let it all out, my body was sensitive to even the slightest touch. I’m still shivering as he unties my hands and feet. He picks me up and carries me to the couch, covering me with a soft blanket, whispering in my ear, “You were amazing tonight. You gave me your best.”

An hour later, Allen’s driver dropped me off at home. The next morning, I sleep in—my body needs the rest. Later that afternoon, the driver returns with a parcel from Allen.

I make some coffee and a sandwich before opening it. Once I’m comfy by the fireplace, I unwrap the gift. I smile. It’s not something from my wish list, but it’s so thoughtful of him—always picking the best. The box reads, “Auto-sucking and licking pussy pump.” I can’t help but laugh. For anyone who enjoys hands-on orgasms or has an assistant toy, this is a must-try.

In the shower, I decided to test it. I wet the pussy pad, pressing it over my clit. It fits perfectly. Leaning back against the wall, I slowly turn it on. My clit tightens with each soft pulse. By the time I reach the highest setting, I drop to the floor, the water pouring over my face and hair.

“Oh my God!” I scream, pulling it off. That was too easy. One, two, three, and I’d had an orgasm. This is like having a quickie. I’m keeping this on my bedside table for those nights when I need a quick release—a goodnight kiss from Allen, so to speak.

Saturday morning, the driver picked me up. I’m wearing a long, loose, low-cut sweater with a black coat. He hands me a small gift box. I open it and smile at the note: “Put yours in the box and put this one on.”

No way! I think to myself. This is going to test my self-control. It’s a pair of black vibrating panties. When we first met, he gave me a red pair. I had to give them back afterward, soaked in my juices. I wonder if he’ll keep this one too. This is going to be so much fun.

Allen greets me in the lobby with a hug and kiss.

“Morning, dear. How are you feeling today?” he asks with a warm smile.

I feel the soft buzzing of the vibrating panties and smile back.

“Morning, Allen. Excited—very excited!” I reply.

After a late breakfast, he hands me a note and leaves the room. I open it: “Go to the restroom.”

As I make my way there, the vibrations intensify, and I know what’s coming. Once inside, I check to make sure I’m alone and stand in front of the mirror. I see Allen behind me, standing by one of the cubicle doors. He takes my hand and pulls me inside, closing the door behind us. He helps me take off my coat, lifts me onto the toilet, and removes my sweater and dress. He pulls my bra down, releasing my breasts, and starts to stimulate them with his hands while our lips meet in a passionate kiss.

Everything moves fast—no time for hesitation. We strip quickly, hands exploring every inch. I’m so close to cumming as Allen helps me stand on the toilet lid, pulling down my panties. He licks me a few times, then sits me back down, dropping his trousers. I’m so wet as I squeeze his cock, watching his expression say more than words ever could.

After a short while, I know he’s close, so I push him back and take him into my mouth. He braces his hands against the stall walls, holding on as I suck him deep, teasing his balls.

“Baby, I’m going to cum, hold on!” he says, one hand on the back of my head. I take him deeper, swallowing everything he gives me, our eyes locked. I clean him with my tongue and help him pull up his trousers.

He leaves me to dress and freshen up, and soon after, I meet him outside by the car. On the ride back, he hands me the box with my panties inside. I know he wants the vibrating ones back, so I give them to him with a pout, but he just smiles.

At the door, we kiss and hug.

“Thank you, Allen. That was incredible,” I say, holding his hand. “You’ve awakened so many emotions in me. This is one of the best memories I’ll ever have.”

“My dear, it’s my job to please you,” he replies with a grin.©