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1 " I just gave you permission to fuck me, but be clear: I'm not another notch on your belt. You're a notch on mine. "
― Lisa Renee Jones , Behind Closed Doors
2 " At night, with only the bedside lamp on, I would pretend to sleep and listened to Dad’s muffled crying in the semi-darkness, wishing that I could cry like him, that I could bring Stevan back from the dead by the strength of my tears. But they were regular tears carving the same slicing-hot trails down my cheeks, and in the end, I could not summon a distinct kind of grief for Stevan. Just the same grief that has gripped mankind for centuries, which time would inevitably ebb into a notch in one’s skin or a small limp in the way one walks or a bottled memory that would only resurface some nights. And soon, you’d struggle to remember how that person talked or how that person used to occupy a customized space in your life. And you don’t want to forget, but you don’t want to remember either, and there seemed to be no place where you could just exist. "
― V.J. Campilan , All My Lonely Islands
3 " Your self esteem is like a notch below Kafka's. "
― Woody Allen , Manhattan
4 " What was best for Charlotte? The answer was obvious. And for once he needed to overcome his selfish desires. " Go home, Charlotte." " So thats it?" She straightened, her lovely pride stiffening her frame. " You are finished with me? Finally?" He discarded the glass and moved so quickly across the room, around the furniture, that he saw the surprise that she couldnt hide. " No." He touched her chin, made her meet his eyes. " I would never be finished with you, Charlotte" Something far more contorted than simple confusion graced her face. " Roman." And her voice was soft, questioning. " Do you think you might come to love me? If you werent ...giving...me back? Someday? Just a little?" He was frozen. Absolutely frozen. He couldnt speak a word. She lifted her chin a notch and pressed a soft kiss to his lips at his nonresponse. And still he remained frozen. He saw her walk to the door and grab Bills arm. Heard their footsteps filing down the hall. Leaving. Leaving. Never hearing his whisper that he already did. "
5 " I’m not a notch on a belt.”“You could never be a notch, London Chantelle. You’re the whole belt, sugar. "
― Elizabeth SaFleur , Untouchable
6 " The loud rasp of leather yanked through Carson’s belt loops sent her attention to his torso.“What are you doing?” London’s panicked gaze shot to his face.“I don’t have a collar on me.”“I am wholly disinterested in being collared.”“One weekend, London.” He grasped one of her hips with his free hand. “If you’re disappointed at any time, you can walk. I’ll never speak of it again. Our work together will go unaffected. No one—and I mean no one—but us will know.”“Would you put that in writing?” Her eyes filled with mischief.Priceless. London lured him toward a lightning storm. He could play. Hell, nothing appealed in the moment more than a weekend playing with London. Yes, this is what he wanted. Now he needed to know if she was willing.“I’ll do one better.” He snaked the belt around her waist until the leather rested against her hips.“I’m not a notch on a belt.”“You could never be a notch, London Chantelle. You’re the whole belt, sugar.”Her face softened, and the playfulness in her eyes died. He recognized the deliberation behind them, the wonder if she’d be safe, here and at work. London needn’t have worried. She might get scared, but mutual satisfaction was the only way his brand of sexual fulfillment worked.“Say yes or no.” He pressed his torso to her corseted body, the last space between her body and his obliterated. “But say yes.”“What will happen if I say yes?”“What you want. What you’ve probably always wanted.”Her eyes misted with a surprising vulnerability. “Yes. "