Novelas y relatos de Submitting

My fingers traced the edges nervously. I pushed the plate away untouched. I couldn't eat. Not tonight. As I made my way out of the private room and then through the lounge. The sound of chatter and clinking of glassware surrounded me. I couldn't help but think how far Tom was willing to go to get what he wanted. I got into my car and placed my head against the steering wheel. My phone’s screen came on inside the bag. An email popped up. Subject: Submission Review—Immediate Opportunity

I had been aware of it the way you are aware of things you want and have not yet permitted yourself to want fully. Marco mentioned it in a call in October. He said it carefully, which told me he had been considering how to say it for some time, that he had decided the right moment was now and was monitoring my response. He said: the submission deadline is in six weeks. I think you should apply. I said: the portfolio requirements are significant. The work time is limited right now. He said: the work exists. You do not need to make new work. You need to assemble what is already there.

But more importantly, I would know for real that I had no chance with him. One thing I'd learned in all my years of living is that straight men aren't worth it… “Sir? Excuse me, sir” I blinked, forced back to the present. “Uhm…” I cleared my throat. “What were you saying?” I sat up in my armchair, pushing thoughts of Guel and that damned Rose to the back of my mind. I was in a meeting and had to keep my focus on my work instead of thinking about him. “Here's the proposal for the month.” He gestured to the file in front of me. “The marketing team is ready to carry it out if you implement it. There's an estimated increase in sales and promotion if we follow the plan.”

Cricket I had a proposal due to Jeremy Marville, the owner of the company, no later than two this afternoon and I’d been staring at a blank computer screen for the past twenty minutes. When Maisie had sold her multi-million-dollar sex toy company, she’d made some provisions for me. Firstly, she’d promoted me from her assistant to Marketing Director, then elicited a promise from Jeremy that I’d have one year to prove myself. If I couldn’t make myself indispensable to him, I was on my own.

“With yourself.” “Thank you.” She hesitated. “India… I’m really glad you’re alive.” That almost broke me again. When she left, I stared at my computer screen for a long time without turning it on. Then I did the only thing that felt remotely like control. I opened my email. Scrolled. Found the thread. Subject: Manuscript Submission – working title My finger hovered over the keyboard, trembling. Then I typed. Thank you for your interest. Due to personal circumstances, I am postponing publication indefinitely. I will reach out when I’m ready to proceed.

This was more than just a file—it was a weapon of truth, ready to detonate and shatter the elitist structures Elysium had allowed to stay alive for so long. "Right," I said to no one in particular, clicking away from the triumphant notification. My heart drummed a rapid beat as I navigated to the National Film Festival’s submission page. This was it—the moment of truth. I attached the file, every click feeling substantial, as if sealing my fate with each press of a button. Submitting the entry felt like launching a flare into the night sky—both a signal and a beacon. "Is that all?" Chris leaned in, his voice a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

It's the new contract. Her expression becomes serious. Aggressive. She blinks, and just one tear is bold enough to roll down her pale cheeks, to be quickly dried. Approaching the table again, with brisk and heavy steps, she takes the new contract, noting the same usual clauses. CONFIDENTIALITY, CONCEALMENT, ADJUSTMENTS, FIDELITY. And then she notices the new clause added: ㅤ § SUBMISSION:As both parties have established, the person who admits defeat and submits completely will be subject to the sanctions below:

I figured she would still be at her party. Going to her window, I climbed inside, letting out a frustrated groan. How often would I have to tell her to lock the damn window? I heard the shower on as I picked up a pen and wrote my note quickly. I was finishing it up when I heard the shower turn off. I placed it in the envelope, addressed it to her, and set the flowers on top. I barely got out and closed the window when I heard the bathroom door open. I dropped to the ground. I was so tempted to look at her. The light cut off a few minutes later, and I headed home.

I again sat, assessing his face, but this time I would wait for an answer. He paced over to the window, holding his chin in his hand before finally breaking the silence. “Anna,” his tone serious “relationships just aren’t my thing. I care for you. I care for you as my submissive. Everything has got a little crazy since you’ve become my submissive and I have well and truly bent my usual rules for you.” My heart sank a little. “You are different though.” He shook his head “and maybe I care more than I usually would.. about you”, he stopped himself from continuing as his voice trailed off and continued looking out into the night sky.

Nobody there could understand. Sugai stood with his hands on his hips, head up, and sighed. He felt impossible, he wanted to cry but tried to stop the tears from flowing. He really didn't understand why his girlfriend and Daisy couldn't escape Yuki's death. It's confusing. Clearly, they’re all strangers who met each other in a different country, yet their affections were still closer than the relatives. Sugai said in pain, “Are you two going to let me continue to live?"