So I have been contemplating the Julie/Julia project idea. I’ve had a few people ask me what I meant by it. So I figured it was time to go for a brief explanation. I had written that blog immediately following watching Julie & Julia. I identified with the Julie character. Over the years I have tried to blog hence having a “Trxz” profile on just about every server. However I could never really get into the swing of it and eventually it would be abandoned. My best friend had started his own blog in which he fearlessly tells the world about his life as a slave. He had mentioned that as I was walking a similar, if completely different, kinky path and maybe I should blog as a way of journaling about it. I thought I would give it a shot. I mean hell if I can’t keep interested in my over active sex life and my kinky discoveries then I just won’t be able to blog period. So with much trepidation I began this blog. At first only posting some of the smutmance my dirty little mind had crafted. Then ever so cautiously beginning to blog in earnest. I watched that movie and really wished that I had some sort of project that would keep me on track. Enter my new submissive. I thought ‘Oh how much fun would that be? To Julie/Julia style chronicle the training of a submissive.’
But how to go about it? Hmmmm… That is the question. Do I have a countdown with 365 days 548 tasks? Do I tell about our day to day contact or simply when he comes to serve me? And surely there has to be a better name for it than “Lana’s Untitled Julie/Julia Project”. I mean I’m not exactly cooking my way through a cookbook. So what to do? I had to put on my thinking cap. Here’s what I came up with.
The Mistress/Lana Project.
The Mistress/Lana Project will be my attempt to chronicle the training of my submissive. I will endeavor to record events that occur as well as the emotional, physical and mental changes that I and he will be going through during this process of training. I will be writing not only as Mistress Lana, but also as just plain old Lana as I have found that what happens in my kinky life tends to radiate out and affect my “normal/nilla” life. I have no “cookbook” to guide me so I will be relying on my own ideas and formulations to move us through, trying always to avoid stagnation.
So here goes….
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sexiest Man Ever
I forgot to post these pics earlier. Just before my pedicure my husband was dutifully getting everything ready. After all my foots stuffs were awaiting my toes my husband turns to me and hands me a Dairy Milk chocolate bar (MY FAV!!).I snapped a pic and told him the only thing sexier than a man giving me chocolate was a naked man giving me chocolate. So he immediatly stripped (sort of. Baby it's cold inside). Here are the pics!
Christmas Report
Was Santa good to you? You bet your ass he was!
I have a 9 year old daughter so Christmas is an exciting magical time. She still believes in Santa Claus and after this year probably will forever. Hell even my skeptical heart was moved. Let me break it down for you.
We went to the mall so my daughter could sit on Santa’s lap. Of course we waited till just about the last second and went up on the 23rd and waited in a huge line for what seemed like forever. Thankfully there was a fudge kiosk not too far and I got my once yearly fudge fill. That sounded kinky. Anyway we wait and wait and wait and finally get up to Santa (after explaining to my daughter that NO I was not going to buy a $20 photo of Santa). My husband and I cross to the far side to wait for her to have her little chat. Now if you have met, spoken with, or been around my daughter you will know that she is a chatterbox. Though sitting on the big man’s lap she didn’t say much of anything. She just sat there with her mouth hanging open. Anyway, they do their thing; she gets her candy cane and then comes over to us with the same dumbstruck look on her face. I ask what’s wrong. Her response surprises the hell out of me. Santa knew her name without her having to tell him. She sat on his lap and said “Hello Lily, you’ve grown so much! And I see you got new glasses!” He then proceeded to ask her if she still wanted the camel webkins that she had written him about or did she want the pelican webkins. For the record, my daughter did indeed write in her letter that she wanted a camel webkinz but has been bugging us non stop because she forgot to include that she wanted the pelican. We’ve told her tough luck, she already mailed her letter. But the mall Santa knew that she wanted the pelican. She also got new glasses only 2 weeks ago. Then Santa winked at me and smiled before we left.
Yes, it could be her soccer or swim coach. There is an outside possibility that it was some bastard smoozing on my kid in which case I will eat his heart. But then there is also the possibility that it was the Real Santa. And that is what I have chosen to believe.
So that was our pre-Christmas festivities.
Christmas came and we had a lovely time. Opened presents at home and with my parents. Killed a magnum of champagne over breakfast (my favorite Christmas tradition) and then headed down to cbus to see the rest of the fam. It was lovely.
But not as lovely as what was awaiting me at home.
My wonderful husband got me a pampered foot tool kit. Pumice stones, heel files, toe separators and such. I was ecstatic because I haven’t given myself a pedicure in…um…. Forever. But once we were home snug in bed (the kid having stayed the night with my mom) watching a movie my husband gets up and leaves the room for a while. When he returns he is carrying my foot spa. You know those things you fill with water, plug in and they vibrate and bubble and such. It turns out his real plan when he bought me the pampered feet kit was to give me a full pedicure.
I have never had someone else give me a pedicure before. Now I understand why people do it. It was lovely!!! He scrubbed away the dead skin from my feet, filed them down and rubbed them until the new skin squeaked. Then he coated them in lotion and rubbed until it was all absorbed. I declined his offer to do my toenails as that is not in his skill set. In the end my feet felt brand new. My husband took a cheap little gift and turned it into the best gift he could have possibly given me. Seeing him sitting at my feet for an hour pampering my little toesies. Well…. It was hot. I could get used to that.
Hope your holidays were filled with goodness!
Pretty toeses!!
I have a 9 year old daughter so Christmas is an exciting magical time. She still believes in Santa Claus and after this year probably will forever. Hell even my skeptical heart was moved. Let me break it down for you.
We went to the mall so my daughter could sit on Santa’s lap. Of course we waited till just about the last second and went up on the 23rd and waited in a huge line for what seemed like forever. Thankfully there was a fudge kiosk not too far and I got my once yearly fudge fill. That sounded kinky. Anyway we wait and wait and wait and finally get up to Santa (after explaining to my daughter that NO I was not going to buy a $20 photo of Santa). My husband and I cross to the far side to wait for her to have her little chat. Now if you have met, spoken with, or been around my daughter you will know that she is a chatterbox. Though sitting on the big man’s lap she didn’t say much of anything. She just sat there with her mouth hanging open. Anyway, they do their thing; she gets her candy cane and then comes over to us with the same dumbstruck look on her face. I ask what’s wrong. Her response surprises the hell out of me. Santa knew her name without her having to tell him. She sat on his lap and said “Hello Lily, you’ve grown so much! And I see you got new glasses!” He then proceeded to ask her if she still wanted the camel webkins that she had written him about or did she want the pelican webkins. For the record, my daughter did indeed write in her letter that she wanted a camel webkinz but has been bugging us non stop because she forgot to include that she wanted the pelican. We’ve told her tough luck, she already mailed her letter. But the mall Santa knew that she wanted the pelican. She also got new glasses only 2 weeks ago. Then Santa winked at me and smiled before we left.
Yes, it could be her soccer or swim coach. There is an outside possibility that it was some bastard smoozing on my kid in which case I will eat his heart. But then there is also the possibility that it was the Real Santa. And that is what I have chosen to believe.
So that was our pre-Christmas festivities.
Christmas came and we had a lovely time. Opened presents at home and with my parents. Killed a magnum of champagne over breakfast (my favorite Christmas tradition) and then headed down to cbus to see the rest of the fam. It was lovely.
But not as lovely as what was awaiting me at home.
My wonderful husband got me a pampered foot tool kit. Pumice stones, heel files, toe separators and such. I was ecstatic because I haven’t given myself a pedicure in…um…. Forever. But once we were home snug in bed (the kid having stayed the night with my mom) watching a movie my husband gets up and leaves the room for a while. When he returns he is carrying my foot spa. You know those things you fill with water, plug in and they vibrate and bubble and such. It turns out his real plan when he bought me the pampered feet kit was to give me a full pedicure. 
I have never had someone else give me a pedicure before. Now I understand why people do it. It was lovely!!! He scrubbed away the dead skin from my feet, filed them down and rubbed them until the new skin squeaked. Then he coated them in lotion and rubbed until it was all absorbed. I declined his offer to do my toenails as that is not in his skill set. In the end my feet felt brand new. My husband took a cheap little gift and turned it into the best gift he could have possibly given me. Seeing him sitting at my feet for an hour pampering my little toesies. Well…. It was hot. I could get used to that.Hope your holidays were filled with goodness!
Pretty toeses!!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
What time is it?
I want to share with you something that my husband, daughter and I do. It may sound strange but it brings an element of joy into our lives and who knows? You might get some joy out of it too!
Occasionally my family breaks out into what appears to be spontaneous dance. It’s not though. Let me tell you the story.
Many moons ago we got very behind on laundry due to illness and you know, life. Anyway there was a ton of clothes that needed done. So we set aside a sat to just stay home and bust them all out. My husband set an alarm on his phone to go off every 40 minutes so we didn’t waste any time between loads. Good plan, I know! Anyway, he chose one of those preset ringtones for the alarm. I guess it would be called ‘electro’. I commented that it made me want to dance. Well my daughter hears it go off a coupe of times (she’s cleaning her room) and comes in to ask what that music was for. I said, “Dance Time” and immediately the alarm goes off. Perfect timing. So we all look at each, start laughing and begin dancing. For the rest of the day every time the alarm went off we would all stop what we were doing and start dancing. It was fun.
Alarms pretty much rule our day. The first one goes off at 5:30 am and the last one goes off at 9pm. 9 pm during the school year is my daughter’s bed time. The alarm goes off to tell us it is time for bed (in case alarms are an unfamiliar concept to you). After Laundry Day my husband changed the 9pm alarm to that jazzy little electro number. And for the past 8 months we always stop what we are doing, dance and laugh at each other looking so goofy. We sometimes get looks when we are out and about when a stranger’s phone with the same ringtone goes off. Those are the times that we look like we are breaking out into spontaneous dance. And it is fun.
Just plain fun. I encourage everyone to give it a try. Even though it is at the same time every night there is usually something different going on and it always catches us by surprise. A few times it has helped us deescalate a fight because no matter how upset you are you still dance. And have a little fun. Who couldn’t use a little more fun in their lives?
Occasionally my family breaks out into what appears to be spontaneous dance. It’s not though. Let me tell you the story.
Many moons ago we got very behind on laundry due to illness and you know, life. Anyway there was a ton of clothes that needed done. So we set aside a sat to just stay home and bust them all out. My husband set an alarm on his phone to go off every 40 minutes so we didn’t waste any time between loads. Good plan, I know! Anyway, he chose one of those preset ringtones for the alarm. I guess it would be called ‘electro’. I commented that it made me want to dance. Well my daughter hears it go off a coupe of times (she’s cleaning her room) and comes in to ask what that music was for. I said, “Dance Time” and immediately the alarm goes off. Perfect timing. So we all look at each, start laughing and begin dancing. For the rest of the day every time the alarm went off we would all stop what we were doing and start dancing. It was fun.
Alarms pretty much rule our day. The first one goes off at 5:30 am and the last one goes off at 9pm. 9 pm during the school year is my daughter’s bed time. The alarm goes off to tell us it is time for bed (in case alarms are an unfamiliar concept to you). After Laundry Day my husband changed the 9pm alarm to that jazzy little electro number. And for the past 8 months we always stop what we are doing, dance and laugh at each other looking so goofy. We sometimes get looks when we are out and about when a stranger’s phone with the same ringtone goes off. Those are the times that we look like we are breaking out into spontaneous dance. And it is fun.
Just plain fun. I encourage everyone to give it a try. Even though it is at the same time every night there is usually something different going on and it always catches us by surprise. A few times it has helped us deescalate a fight because no matter how upset you are you still dance. And have a little fun. Who couldn’t use a little more fun in their lives?
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Bad mis...I mean Mistress
I feel bad. I am a bad Punctuation Mistress. I sometimes capitalize the ‘H’ in he if it is as the beginning of the sentence. I will occasionally forget to capitalize the ‘m’ in Mistress or Master. Bad BDSM Punctuation Mistress. Bad! 20 lashes!
For the life of me I can’t reteach myself. I can barely put a sentence together that doesn’t get underlined green by Word due to poor grammar. I couldn’t diagram a sentence to save my life. I have only learned to spell so I don’t look stupid when my daughter asks me to spell something. And on my computer Word keeps auto correcting my capitalization. It’s an uphill struggle and I am afraid I may not be up to it.
Is it cheating if I have my sub proof read and correct any erroneously capitalized ‘H’s or rouge ‘m’s. I wonder, I wonder….
For the life of me I can’t reteach myself. I can barely put a sentence together that doesn’t get underlined green by Word due to poor grammar. I couldn’t diagram a sentence to save my life. I have only learned to spell so I don’t look stupid when my daughter asks me to spell something. And on my computer Word keeps auto correcting my capitalization. It’s an uphill struggle and I am afraid I may not be up to it.
Is it cheating if I have my sub proof read and correct any erroneously capitalized ‘H’s or rouge ‘m’s. I wonder, I wonder….
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Training Day
Yesterday was divine. So divine I feel a little Bette coming on.
For those of you who may not have known I began training my subby boy yesterday.
I will admit this to you, but please keep it to yourself. I was a bit nervous. Starting out with someone new is always an anxious time. Will you click? Will it work? What if he has some weird facial tick or constantly clears his throat? What if he walks in and says something unforgivable like “G.W. RULES!!!!”? See, there are so many things to think of! Ok honestly none of that really concerns me. But there is a period of adjustment to new people. And my subby is different than anyone I’ve played with before. He’s a service submissive. Now I’ve played with a few people who identified thusly but it became apparent quiet quickly that the only service they were interested in is the service I would be doing to their naughty bits. Tie me up and get me off. Which when assumed of me, raises my ire. However my new subby seems (and it is early stages. I haven’t discounted the possibility that he could be running clever con and planning to kill me and wear me as a skin suit.) genuinely interested in serving me.
he arrived in good, if quiet spirits. As soon as we entered my house I had him kneel to remove my boots. It was amazing watching how attentive he was to each detail. Pulling up my pant leg, untying the tie, loosening the laces, and finally removing it, readjusting my pant leg, lining them up and placing them where instructed. Something so minor that I do at least once a day becomes hugely magnified when it is being done for you freely out of service. And that probably was not as significant a moment for him out of all he did during the day. But for me it was a kinky hallmark moment.
Anyway, I then took him on a tour of my house before having him strip as far as negotiations allowed and fitted him with his training collar, explaining that if we progress past the training period (I’m still being vigilant. Remember the skin suit?) he will be fitted for a proper collar. In retrospect I wish I had said a bit more. Something grander perhaps. But in the moment, seeing my collar locked into place around his neck…there was something profound in the simplicity and I held that moment.
But then I put him to work. Oh yes I did. Straight into the basement. Now I know you haven’t seen my basement. How do I know? Because if you are not my husband or my daughter you haven’t seen it. I don’t let people. Why? Because it’s a shithole. Not the space. It’s a great room with HUGE amounts of potential (read it’s going to be my playspace) but 6 years of living here (FUCK IT”S BEEN 6 YEARS!!!!) and allowing my husband near total dominion over it (he shares it with the cat) means that there was every cardboard box that had entered my home for the past 6 years stacked precariously waist high on either side of a narrow alley that led to the laundry room. Everything that couldn’t fit into a garbage bag but needed to be thrown out was scattered throughout the basement. And amidst all of that were boxes containing things precious to me. To make a long story short (TOO LATE!) it was a big job.
But my boy didn’t flinch. he just put his head down, demolished boxes and filled trash bags. I left him alone for the first hour while I cut out patterns upstairs. I used that as a kind of litmus test to see how dedicated he would be to his task. If he would find an excuse to come up every 10 minutes to ask a question or to see if I needed something. Which yes is good service; however it is not the task that was assigned which was bag up trash. It is important to me to accomplish tasks. However I fully expected to see him pop up those steps at least twice. I was pleasantly surprised that he did not come up even once. he didn’t call. he simply kept to his work and by the time I went back down an hour later he had an impressive stack of trash bags and a nearly emptied corner of the room.
I won’t bore you with details about cleaning out my basement. Instead I will say that it was a wonderful experience. Every bit of the day. My basement is piled high with trash bags. I was prepared a lovely lunch for which he sat at my feet while we ate. My laundry is done. And he got a crash course in my toy bag. Good news, he likes fire! he dealt well with the copious safe calls made by my ever vigilant mother and father. (mom called every hour, my dad every half. No skin suits on their watch!) At the end of the day when all was done and it was time to part I gave him a scarf I made for him and he was appreciative.
his next journal assignment will be to tell me how the day of service impacted him. For my part it was profound. I have been jerked around a fair bit in my life. I despise dishonesty and have encountered quite a bit of it in my hunt for a submissive. Thus far my boy has been and done exactly what he has said. From me that is high praise. I am humbled by his service and greater for it. I look forward to our next session.
But I’m like Mad Eye Moody. Constantly vigilant. If he starts trying to get me to put lotion on my skin then I am out of here.
For those of you who may not have known I began training my subby boy yesterday.
I will admit this to you, but please keep it to yourself. I was a bit nervous. Starting out with someone new is always an anxious time. Will you click? Will it work? What if he has some weird facial tick or constantly clears his throat? What if he walks in and says something unforgivable like “G.W. RULES!!!!”? See, there are so many things to think of! Ok honestly none of that really concerns me. But there is a period of adjustment to new people. And my subby is different than anyone I’ve played with before. He’s a service submissive. Now I’ve played with a few people who identified thusly but it became apparent quiet quickly that the only service they were interested in is the service I would be doing to their naughty bits. Tie me up and get me off. Which when assumed of me, raises my ire. However my new subby seems (and it is early stages. I haven’t discounted the possibility that he could be running clever con and planning to kill me and wear me as a skin suit.) genuinely interested in serving me.
he arrived in good, if quiet spirits. As soon as we entered my house I had him kneel to remove my boots. It was amazing watching how attentive he was to each detail. Pulling up my pant leg, untying the tie, loosening the laces, and finally removing it, readjusting my pant leg, lining them up and placing them where instructed. Something so minor that I do at least once a day becomes hugely magnified when it is being done for you freely out of service. And that probably was not as significant a moment for him out of all he did during the day. But for me it was a kinky hallmark moment.
Anyway, I then took him on a tour of my house before having him strip as far as negotiations allowed and fitted him with his training collar, explaining that if we progress past the training period (I’m still being vigilant. Remember the skin suit?) he will be fitted for a proper collar. In retrospect I wish I had said a bit more. Something grander perhaps. But in the moment, seeing my collar locked into place around his neck…there was something profound in the simplicity and I held that moment.
But then I put him to work. Oh yes I did. Straight into the basement. Now I know you haven’t seen my basement. How do I know? Because if you are not my husband or my daughter you haven’t seen it. I don’t let people. Why? Because it’s a shithole. Not the space. It’s a great room with HUGE amounts of potential (read it’s going to be my playspace) but 6 years of living here (FUCK IT”S BEEN 6 YEARS!!!!) and allowing my husband near total dominion over it (he shares it with the cat) means that there was every cardboard box that had entered my home for the past 6 years stacked precariously waist high on either side of a narrow alley that led to the laundry room. Everything that couldn’t fit into a garbage bag but needed to be thrown out was scattered throughout the basement. And amidst all of that were boxes containing things precious to me. To make a long story short (TOO LATE!) it was a big job.
But my boy didn’t flinch. he just put his head down, demolished boxes and filled trash bags. I left him alone for the first hour while I cut out patterns upstairs. I used that as a kind of litmus test to see how dedicated he would be to his task. If he would find an excuse to come up every 10 minutes to ask a question or to see if I needed something. Which yes is good service; however it is not the task that was assigned which was bag up trash. It is important to me to accomplish tasks. However I fully expected to see him pop up those steps at least twice. I was pleasantly surprised that he did not come up even once. he didn’t call. he simply kept to his work and by the time I went back down an hour later he had an impressive stack of trash bags and a nearly emptied corner of the room.
I won’t bore you with details about cleaning out my basement. Instead I will say that it was a wonderful experience. Every bit of the day. My basement is piled high with trash bags. I was prepared a lovely lunch for which he sat at my feet while we ate. My laundry is done. And he got a crash course in my toy bag. Good news, he likes fire! he dealt well with the copious safe calls made by my ever vigilant mother and father. (mom called every hour, my dad every half. No skin suits on their watch!) At the end of the day when all was done and it was time to part I gave him a scarf I made for him and he was appreciative.
his next journal assignment will be to tell me how the day of service impacted him. For my part it was profound. I have been jerked around a fair bit in my life. I despise dishonesty and have encountered quite a bit of it in my hunt for a submissive. Thus far my boy has been and done exactly what he has said. From me that is high praise. I am humbled by his service and greater for it. I look forward to our next session.
But I’m like Mad Eye Moody. Constantly vigilant. If he starts trying to get me to put lotion on my skin then I am out of here.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Hey all you Ho Ho Hos! Tis the season and other jazz. In my household we are big on the homemade Christmas (to the disapointment of some and delight of others. Every year I com eup with a new theme and we go all out in that direction. However one staple of Christmas is cookies. My family does a Cookie Extravaganze where all the women in the family (That's right my extended family upholds gender roles) get together and each make a specific cookie. Then we mix and match till everyone has a good mixture for their presents. However I couldn't make it this year (DAMN SWIM TEAM!). Which means I have been busy all day baking yummy cookies. I asked my daughter what cookies we should make and of course her response was "Santa's favorite cookies!"
For those of you who are wondering what Santa's fav cookies are you obviously don't have the best Christmas book ever! Let me get you hip!
The Santa Claus Book is the most correct book on Santa and is the only one authorized by Santa himself. It answers just about every question you might have about Santa thanks to the author Alden Perkes, Ph.D.S. (Ph.D in Santa)who spent most of a year with Santa at the North Pole learning what happens all year round with the big guy and his elves. The Book covers everything from Where Santa Came From, Why Santa Lives So Long, Santa's Garden, Why Rudolph's nose is Red (The Real Story), How the Elves first met Santa and many many many more! It is simply the most delightful book I have ever owned. I have had it since I was a kid and am very happy to pass it on to my daughter. Anyway, as you can probably guess one of the chapters is Satna's Favorite Treat which is where we got our receipe for Santa's Fav Cookies.
Now I can't share these yummy cookies with you virtually, I can share with you the pages. So I hope you enjoy! The receipe came straight from Mrs. Claus who also include the conversion for regular ingredients for those who don't have some of the speicality North Pole ingredients. I hope you enjoy!
For those of you who are wondering what Santa's fav cookies are you obviously don't have the best Christmas book ever! Let me get you hip!
The Santa Claus Book is the most correct book on Santa and is the only one authorized by Santa himself. It answers just about every question you might have about Santa thanks to the author Alden Perkes, Ph.D.S. (Ph.D in Santa)who spent most of a year with Santa at the North Pole learning what happens all year round with the big guy and his elves. The Book covers everything from Where Santa Came From, Why Santa Lives So Long, Santa's Garden, Why Rudolph's nose is Red (The Real Story), How the Elves first met Santa and many many many more! It is simply the most delightful book I have ever owned. I have had it since I was a kid and am very happy to pass it on to my daughter. Anyway, as you can probably guess one of the chapters is Satna's Favorite Treat which is where we got our receipe for Santa's Fav Cookies.
Now I can't share these yummy cookies with you virtually, I can share with you the pages. So I hope you enjoy! The receipe came straight from Mrs. Claus who also include the conversion for regular ingredients for those who don't have some of the speicality North Pole ingredients. I hope you enjoy!
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Sunday Smut....opps!
So it's Sunday and I am at your blog! I want my god damned SMUT!!!
Many appologies my rabid fans. Unfortunatly with the holidays being upon me I have not had a chance to work on my Smut. I will try to get it up next Sun though.
Tomorrow my sub is coming to work hard on my house. It will be the first big test. Making sure he is sure that he wants to work for me because I am going to wear his ass out. I am excited! I of course will keep you posted in my Julie/Julia theme.
But Keith is right, I need a Julia to my Julie.. Must steal pics of Tiny Bubbles!
Many appologies my rabid fans. Unfortunatly with the holidays being upon me I have not had a chance to work on my Smut. I will try to get it up next Sun though.
Tomorrow my sub is coming to work hard on my house. It will be the first big test. Making sure he is sure that he wants to work for me because I am going to wear his ass out. I am excited! I of course will keep you posted in my Julie/Julia theme.
But Keith is right, I need a Julia to my Julie.. Must steal pics of Tiny Bubbles!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Subby
It looks as though I may have found a prospective sub that will work within the contexts of what I am looking for. I am excited to get started on really training him. That is right, I said him. I was as suprised as you are. I was wary as he approached me online and as anyone who knows me knows I have very little use for online people. However he was willing to meet immediatly instead of the usual bullshit "Oh I can't THIS weekend, maybe next?" or "I'm completely booked for the next month, but could you just scene for me over a txt message and get me off?" bullshit bullshit bullshit lies lies lies. So it was a pleasant suprise to actually meet him within a week or so of him approaching me. So far he has proven himself eager and willing to comply with all my rules and restrictions. Though I haven't really put him to work yet. That will come this Monday. then we shall know. Then we shall see. But so far so good. He even earned a few bonus points for knowing my favorite version of Alice in Wonderland.
I was thinking of maybe doing a Julie/Julia thing and blogging as I progress through his training. Maybe a countdown to collar or something. Perhaps perhaps perhaps.
I was thinking of maybe doing a Julie/Julia thing and blogging as I progress through his training. Maybe a countdown to collar or something. Perhaps perhaps perhaps.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Sunday Smut Labyrinth Installment 4
Labyrinth Installment 4 (If you haven't read the first 3, check out the achieves!)
A dwarf was cutting up an apple with his knife. He sat on the stone floor leaning against 2 large intricately carved doors. The doors showed a mural depicting a beautiful woman with golden hair receiving the adoration of several dwarves. The dwarf on the floor seemed a living part of the mural, situated as he was at the woman’s feet. The dwarf took no notice of the mural and had eyes for nothing other than his apple which he cut large chunks from and shoved eagerly into his mouth. He took no notice of a clear bubble that floated through the window.
The bubble hovered beside the dwarf for a few seconds before drifting down to rest on the floor before the large double doors. The moment the bubble touched the floor it popped and in a rushing of material and feathers Jareth materialized.
The dwarf dropped his apple, knife still poking out from it, and jumped up. He grabbed his spear which he had propped up against the door and tried to stand at attention. Jareth could not suppress a small sneer. This dwarf reminded Jareth of another dwarf he had once known. A dwarf who had ruined his plans and helped Sarah escape his Labyrinth. From that day on Jareth had never been able to look at dwarves in quite the same way. They aroused anger in him. A shame that they were his sister’s subjects.
“Lord Jareth.” The dwarf guarding the double doors croaked. Small pieces of apple launched from his mouth as he spoke. At least Jareth was shielded from the flying debris when the dwarf bent his small body in half, attempting a lordly bow.
Jareth waved his hand dismissively. “I have come to see my sister.”
The dwarf jerked himself upright. “I’m, uh, sorry sir, but The Queen of the Dwarves is, uh, busy, yeah that’s it! She’s busy at the moment.” The dwarf was clearly trying to remember what he had been instructed to say. The prospect of discussing anything with the guard dwarf was absurd and Jareth merely brushed past him and pushed open the doors to his sister’s Throne Room.
Her Throne Room was the same as ever. The stone walls hung with red velvet. The floors were covered in brightly decorated thick plush rugs. On the rugs were little islands of pillows. Blue flames burned in braziers on either side of the room, filling it with a thin white veil of smoke. Jareth recognized it as Fairy Fire, the smoke of which could reach into minds and ensnare them, making them malleable to the force of will. Against the far wall was his sister on her throne. Though throne was hardly the term Jareth thought of when he gazed upon it.
Their mother had given a throne to each Jareth and Lilith when they had won their respective kingdoms. Each designed by their mother to best compliment her children. Jareth’s a marble curved throne, unfurling like a scroll. Lilith’s a jewel inlaid golden seat the exact color of her hair. Jareth loved his throne but Lilith had long since replaced her’s with one of her own design. Luxuriously upholstered in the deepest crimson and as big as a bed with another bed behind it, it looked like an oversized couch. Lilith had claimed to their mother that it was far more comfortable than the throne of gold for her to receive her subjects. And receive her subjects in it, she did. The throne could easily seat 10 dwarves side by side with their queen, though at the moment Jareth only saw 5 upon the throne. Or perhaps better stated, upon Lilith.
Lilith was laying naked flat on her back upon the throne. Scattered over her body Jareth saw 5 naked dwarf asses thrusting forward and back. It took Jareth a moment to discern what was happening. His sister seemed to be the epicenter of a dwarf cock storm. He could not see her face because there one dwarf was perched, his long fingers grasping his Queen’s hair while he pumped his cock in and out of her mouth. He grunted on every other thrust. One dwarf appeared to be just sitting on her stomach but then he shifted slightly and Jareth could see he actually had his little penis stuck between Lilith’s breasts and was humping them breathlessly. Another sat beside Lilith and squeezed her tit’s together, tightly pinching her nipples while he rubbed his hard-on against her side. He looked as happy as he could be. Further down 2 dwarves were ass to ass while one pounded into her pussy while the other slammed her ass.
Jareth waited a moment but none of them seemed aware that he had entered. He raised his hand to his mouth and let out a small cough.
The quivering mass of flesh beneath the dwarves bodies stopped its movement. The dwarves themselves continued to slam into her as if they weren’t disturbed in the least by Jareth’s presence. Jareth hard a wet smack of lips and his sister’s face appeared beside a dwarf’s ass.
“Brother!” she said in surprise
“Sister.” Jareth replied flatly.
“What are you doing here?” She asked. She sounded genuinely happy to see him.
The dwarf next to her face began masturbating frantically, his cock still inches from her mouth. Lilith took no notice. Jareth rolled his eyes. “I came to discuss an issue of great importance. However I seem to have interrupted you during your gymnastics practice. I can return at another time if you would prefer.”
“Oh no need.” She clapped her hands and immediately the dwarves all ceased what their thumping. They climbed off of her and down from the throne and stood in a straight line with their hands behind their backs, naked except for their hats, their penis’s all standing straight out and shining slightly in the light from the torches. “I want to talk to my brother for a bit. I want those,” she pointed down the row at the dwarves erections “just as hard when you come back in here. Do you understand?”
“Yes my Lady.” The said in their gravely voices in unison. Then without another word they turned and rushed from the room.
Lilith reached behind her and grabbed a long scarf that she draped across her. The scarf did little to obscure her form. Jareth could still see every detail beneath the material. The curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the rosy hard circles of her nipples, the golden tangle at the top of her legs. “Shall I wait while you dress?”
“Don’t be silly! I am dressed.” She said merrily as she secured a knot behind her neck and reclined back into a large pillow.
“I thought you might not be finished.” Jareth muttered.
“When did you become such a prude?” Lilith laughed. “You’ll never get Stacy…”
“Sarah” Jareth corrected.
“Sarah, Stacy, mortal, whatever.” Lilith rolled her eyes. “Anyway you will never get her if you don’t get a little creative. Perhaps if Stacy…”
Jareth laughed. “Is that what you were just doing with your subjects? Getting creative?”
Lilith sat up straight. As Jareth watched she arranged her face into one of complete innocence and said poured much dignity into her words “I make no excuses or apologies for my actions. I want what I want when I want it. I see nothing to be gained by waiting and denying my gratification. My good brother has shown me an exceptional example of that. Besides waiting is for lesser being. Not us.”
“Enough.” Jareth raised his hand and she fell silent. Immediately her face twisted into a scowl. Lilith had always envied him that power. It gave him the ability to always have the last word. Jareth smiled. “I did not come to discuss yours or my love lives.”
His sister crossed her arms in frustration. Jareth lowered his hand and immediately she retorted. “Then why are you here? Come just to ruin my day? Because you can go now if that was your intent. Mission accomplished.”
Jareth said calmly “I came because of your spy.”
A small blush appeared in Lilith’s cheeks. She uncrossed her arms and figited with a thread in her lap.“Opps!” She said. “You found her, didn’t you? Well I suppose I’m sorry.”
“Opps?” Jareth couldn’t believe her. “You broke the family truce. You risk war with my kingdom. You undermine me and plant a traitor in my realm, in my own castle, and all you can say for yourself is Opps?”
She smiled warmly. “And sorry don’t forget! I did say sorry. But in all fairness you were never supposed to find out about her. She was just supposed to slip into your little labyrinth, stay out of the way and then scurry on back here like the little mouse that she is. Where is she anyway?”
“You’re rat is caught in a trap at the moment.” Jareth said.
No outward sign of concern showed on her face. She just asked “Is she alright?”
“She’s being punished.” Jareth studied his sister as he spoke. “But she will survive. She may need some time to recover before she travels though.”
“Good.” His sister’s face was a mask. She was clearly trying to hide her relief. So the spy had been telling the truth. She meant something to his sister. That was interesting.
“Care to tell me why you placed someone in my castle to spy for you?” Jareth asked.
Lilith’s face broke and when she looked at him there was something like pity in her eyes. As if she felt sorry for him. Jareth searched her face for signs of insincerity but there was nothing. She smiled sadly and said “Oh my dear brother. I would never seek war with you. I did not break the family truce. I placed the spy within your walls but not out of animosity. I did it for the same reason mother has a spy in your castle. Because we are both worried about you.”
The scene flashed red and Jareth had to force himself to take a deep breath. He could not control his hands which began shaking slightly. Jareth had to reach deep within to muster the resolve to not scream his next words at his sister. “Pardon me. Did you say I have more spies in my realm?”
Lilith stood and reached out to Jareth taking his hands in hers. The moment she took his hand Jareth’s shaking ceased. He allowed her to steer him to the side of her throne next to her. “Just one more.” She said. Jareth could hear the truth in his sister’s voice.
Jareth could barely think. He had to wrench the word from his mouth. “Mother’s.”
Lilith gently pushed him down to sit on the edge of her throne. She sat down beside him still holding his hands gently. “Yes. Mother’s. And before you start formulating a plan to discover who the spy is, stop. You will never find their identity. You know that. Mother would have made sure of it. So there is no point in getting angry. No point in worrying over it.”
“I have been betrayed.” Jareth’s words were bitter. He did not see his sister raise her hand and was very surprised when she smacked him hard across the face. Jareth attempted to react but he felt his sister’s will holding him in his seat. He looked down at the hand she still held. He had been so shocked by his family’s betrayal he had allowed her to touch his skin. His sister’s powers were strongest when she could touch her victim. Jareth concentrated hard and was just able to tear his hand from hers. He felt the pressure cease immediately.
“Get a hold of yourself Jareth.” She said. “You haven’t been betrayed by anyone. Well not by your family in any case. We did it because we are worried about you Jareth. No other reason. We wanted to know what was wrong. You won’t talk to us. You aren’t yourself lately. You don’t attend balls. You never come round. You spend all your time pining over some mortal who’s humiliated you. You have stopped seeking a wife. You seem completely uninterested in siring an heir for your kingdom. Even you must admit that the old Jareth would have simply killed my Michelle and have done with it. Instead you, what? Dipped her in the bog? Stuck her in your oubliette?”
Her words cut Jareth. Each slicing him deeper and deeper. Through the pain of her statements he realized his sister had brought the conversation back to Michelle. She wanted to know what he had done to her. Lilith cared what became of the woman. Anger turned his blood cold. In that moment he wanted to hurt his sister. To make her experience some of the pain he was feeling. He conjured upon his fingertips a bubble. Jareth smiled bitterly and blew the bubble towards her.
It drifted gently close enough for Lilith to gaze into its depths. In the bubble she saw Michelle bent in half at the waist. Her head and shoulders were encased in a wooden stockade. Clumps of hair stuck out in matted chunks all over her head. Though you could not hear what was going on it was clear that she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Every few seconds she would seem to choke and struggle for breath. Jareth knew that the fumes of the Bog had overtaken her at these times. A barrel of ale had been placed under the woman’s stomach. Her torso rested uncomfortably upon it. Her dress was ripped and already very dirty but getting dirtier from the hands of the tall goblin who stood behind her grinding. Michelle let out a particularly vicious looking scream and the goblin laughed, and smacked her ass so hard it immediately brought up a bruise.
Lilith reached up and touched the image. It popped as if it were an ordinary bubble. For a moment pain showed clearly upon her face. Then it was gone and she turned, glared at her brother. “There was no need for all of that.”
Jareth spat “I disagree.”
Lilith waved her hand and persisted as if she hadn’t been disturbed by the vision. “Regardless you know what I said is true. Even if you don’t want to admit it. You need to think of the future. Not dwell in the past. Find someone new. Anyone. Any of the immortal court would give their teeth to be your bride. I know an elven princess from the Northern Realm. Or a nymphomaniac Duchess in my realm. For the love of your kingdom just let that girl go! She disgraces you. She humiliates you. Your subjects will never accept a mortal as your wife. What you seek is a fantasy. She can not rule by your side. She controls you. Everyone can see it but you. She calls and you jump. She has you on a string brother! Why can you not see it?”
Anger surged in Jareth. Part of him wanted to wrap his fingers around his sister’s throat and squeeze until he could no longer hear her voice. He stood up and walked away from her to lessen the temptation. Her words rang in his ears. Half formed thoughts floated across his mind. What does she… How could she… But still a small part of him heard the truth in her word. The longer he went without refuting her accusations the more weight they seemed to have.
Jareth was paralyzed by the confusing mixture of emotions he was experiencing. For the first time in his long life he did not know what to do or say.
Then a voice cut through his confused fog. A voice more precious to him than his jewels, or his castle, or even his kingdom.
“Jareth” Sarah’s voice filled Lilith’s throne room and reverberated off the walls.
“Ah.” Lilith voice was as cold as ice. “She commands your presence I see. Better get going then. Mustn’t keep her waiting.”
Her words aroused no anger in Jareth’s breast this time. Not when Sarah wanted him. Instead he smiled at his sister and said “Jealousy does not become you sister.” Then he disappeared leaving behind only a quick glimpse of a burst bubble.
“Nor does stupidity become you brother.” Lilith said. She reflected for a moment upon the sad state of affairs her brother found himself in. Then she sighed and clapped her hands.
The 5 dwarves returned to the room, running forward and standing in a line before her.
“You.” Lilith pointed at the dwarf who had been attending her breasts. “Michelle is being held in my brother’s bog. Go and bring her back to me.” Immediately the still naked dwarf turned and ran from the room.
“Would you like the rest of us M’lady?” the shortest of the dwarves asked her.
Lilith considered for a moment and then said “I suppose so.”
She reached behind her neck and pulled on the knotted material. It came loose and fell away as she lay back on the bed. The dwarves rubbed their hands together expectantly and then jumped on the bed.
Lilith’s last thought before 3 cocks filled her holes and distracted her was “Enjoy her my brother. You will find out soon enough.”
A dwarf was cutting up an apple with his knife. He sat on the stone floor leaning against 2 large intricately carved doors. The doors showed a mural depicting a beautiful woman with golden hair receiving the adoration of several dwarves. The dwarf on the floor seemed a living part of the mural, situated as he was at the woman’s feet. The dwarf took no notice of the mural and had eyes for nothing other than his apple which he cut large chunks from and shoved eagerly into his mouth. He took no notice of a clear bubble that floated through the window.
The bubble hovered beside the dwarf for a few seconds before drifting down to rest on the floor before the large double doors. The moment the bubble touched the floor it popped and in a rushing of material and feathers Jareth materialized.
The dwarf dropped his apple, knife still poking out from it, and jumped up. He grabbed his spear which he had propped up against the door and tried to stand at attention. Jareth could not suppress a small sneer. This dwarf reminded Jareth of another dwarf he had once known. A dwarf who had ruined his plans and helped Sarah escape his Labyrinth. From that day on Jareth had never been able to look at dwarves in quite the same way. They aroused anger in him. A shame that they were his sister’s subjects.
“Lord Jareth.” The dwarf guarding the double doors croaked. Small pieces of apple launched from his mouth as he spoke. At least Jareth was shielded from the flying debris when the dwarf bent his small body in half, attempting a lordly bow.
Jareth waved his hand dismissively. “I have come to see my sister.”
The dwarf jerked himself upright. “I’m, uh, sorry sir, but The Queen of the Dwarves is, uh, busy, yeah that’s it! She’s busy at the moment.” The dwarf was clearly trying to remember what he had been instructed to say. The prospect of discussing anything with the guard dwarf was absurd and Jareth merely brushed past him and pushed open the doors to his sister’s Throne Room.
Her Throne Room was the same as ever. The stone walls hung with red velvet. The floors were covered in brightly decorated thick plush rugs. On the rugs were little islands of pillows. Blue flames burned in braziers on either side of the room, filling it with a thin white veil of smoke. Jareth recognized it as Fairy Fire, the smoke of which could reach into minds and ensnare them, making them malleable to the force of will. Against the far wall was his sister on her throne. Though throne was hardly the term Jareth thought of when he gazed upon it.
Their mother had given a throne to each Jareth and Lilith when they had won their respective kingdoms. Each designed by their mother to best compliment her children. Jareth’s a marble curved throne, unfurling like a scroll. Lilith’s a jewel inlaid golden seat the exact color of her hair. Jareth loved his throne but Lilith had long since replaced her’s with one of her own design. Luxuriously upholstered in the deepest crimson and as big as a bed with another bed behind it, it looked like an oversized couch. Lilith had claimed to their mother that it was far more comfortable than the throne of gold for her to receive her subjects. And receive her subjects in it, she did. The throne could easily seat 10 dwarves side by side with their queen, though at the moment Jareth only saw 5 upon the throne. Or perhaps better stated, upon Lilith.
Lilith was laying naked flat on her back upon the throne. Scattered over her body Jareth saw 5 naked dwarf asses thrusting forward and back. It took Jareth a moment to discern what was happening. His sister seemed to be the epicenter of a dwarf cock storm. He could not see her face because there one dwarf was perched, his long fingers grasping his Queen’s hair while he pumped his cock in and out of her mouth. He grunted on every other thrust. One dwarf appeared to be just sitting on her stomach but then he shifted slightly and Jareth could see he actually had his little penis stuck between Lilith’s breasts and was humping them breathlessly. Another sat beside Lilith and squeezed her tit’s together, tightly pinching her nipples while he rubbed his hard-on against her side. He looked as happy as he could be. Further down 2 dwarves were ass to ass while one pounded into her pussy while the other slammed her ass.
Jareth waited a moment but none of them seemed aware that he had entered. He raised his hand to his mouth and let out a small cough.
The quivering mass of flesh beneath the dwarves bodies stopped its movement. The dwarves themselves continued to slam into her as if they weren’t disturbed in the least by Jareth’s presence. Jareth hard a wet smack of lips and his sister’s face appeared beside a dwarf’s ass.
“Brother!” she said in surprise
“Sister.” Jareth replied flatly.
“What are you doing here?” She asked. She sounded genuinely happy to see him.
The dwarf next to her face began masturbating frantically, his cock still inches from her mouth. Lilith took no notice. Jareth rolled his eyes. “I came to discuss an issue of great importance. However I seem to have interrupted you during your gymnastics practice. I can return at another time if you would prefer.”
“Oh no need.” She clapped her hands and immediately the dwarves all ceased what their thumping. They climbed off of her and down from the throne and stood in a straight line with their hands behind their backs, naked except for their hats, their penis’s all standing straight out and shining slightly in the light from the torches. “I want to talk to my brother for a bit. I want those,” she pointed down the row at the dwarves erections “just as hard when you come back in here. Do you understand?”
“Yes my Lady.” The said in their gravely voices in unison. Then without another word they turned and rushed from the room.
Lilith reached behind her and grabbed a long scarf that she draped across her. The scarf did little to obscure her form. Jareth could still see every detail beneath the material. The curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, the rosy hard circles of her nipples, the golden tangle at the top of her legs. “Shall I wait while you dress?”
“Don’t be silly! I am dressed.” She said merrily as she secured a knot behind her neck and reclined back into a large pillow.
“I thought you might not be finished.” Jareth muttered.
“When did you become such a prude?” Lilith laughed. “You’ll never get Stacy…”
“Sarah” Jareth corrected.
“Sarah, Stacy, mortal, whatever.” Lilith rolled her eyes. “Anyway you will never get her if you don’t get a little creative. Perhaps if Stacy…”
Jareth laughed. “Is that what you were just doing with your subjects? Getting creative?”
Lilith sat up straight. As Jareth watched she arranged her face into one of complete innocence and said poured much dignity into her words “I make no excuses or apologies for my actions. I want what I want when I want it. I see nothing to be gained by waiting and denying my gratification. My good brother has shown me an exceptional example of that. Besides waiting is for lesser being. Not us.”
“Enough.” Jareth raised his hand and she fell silent. Immediately her face twisted into a scowl. Lilith had always envied him that power. It gave him the ability to always have the last word. Jareth smiled. “I did not come to discuss yours or my love lives.”
His sister crossed her arms in frustration. Jareth lowered his hand and immediately she retorted. “Then why are you here? Come just to ruin my day? Because you can go now if that was your intent. Mission accomplished.”
Jareth said calmly “I came because of your spy.”
A small blush appeared in Lilith’s cheeks. She uncrossed her arms and figited with a thread in her lap.“Opps!” She said. “You found her, didn’t you? Well I suppose I’m sorry.”
“Opps?” Jareth couldn’t believe her. “You broke the family truce. You risk war with my kingdom. You undermine me and plant a traitor in my realm, in my own castle, and all you can say for yourself is Opps?”
She smiled warmly. “And sorry don’t forget! I did say sorry. But in all fairness you were never supposed to find out about her. She was just supposed to slip into your little labyrinth, stay out of the way and then scurry on back here like the little mouse that she is. Where is she anyway?”
“You’re rat is caught in a trap at the moment.” Jareth said.
No outward sign of concern showed on her face. She just asked “Is she alright?”
“She’s being punished.” Jareth studied his sister as he spoke. “But she will survive. She may need some time to recover before she travels though.”
“Good.” His sister’s face was a mask. She was clearly trying to hide her relief. So the spy had been telling the truth. She meant something to his sister. That was interesting.
“Care to tell me why you placed someone in my castle to spy for you?” Jareth asked.
Lilith’s face broke and when she looked at him there was something like pity in her eyes. As if she felt sorry for him. Jareth searched her face for signs of insincerity but there was nothing. She smiled sadly and said “Oh my dear brother. I would never seek war with you. I did not break the family truce. I placed the spy within your walls but not out of animosity. I did it for the same reason mother has a spy in your castle. Because we are both worried about you.”
The scene flashed red and Jareth had to force himself to take a deep breath. He could not control his hands which began shaking slightly. Jareth had to reach deep within to muster the resolve to not scream his next words at his sister. “Pardon me. Did you say I have more spies in my realm?”
Lilith stood and reached out to Jareth taking his hands in hers. The moment she took his hand Jareth’s shaking ceased. He allowed her to steer him to the side of her throne next to her. “Just one more.” She said. Jareth could hear the truth in his sister’s voice.
Jareth could barely think. He had to wrench the word from his mouth. “Mother’s.”
Lilith gently pushed him down to sit on the edge of her throne. She sat down beside him still holding his hands gently. “Yes. Mother’s. And before you start formulating a plan to discover who the spy is, stop. You will never find their identity. You know that. Mother would have made sure of it. So there is no point in getting angry. No point in worrying over it.”
“I have been betrayed.” Jareth’s words were bitter. He did not see his sister raise her hand and was very surprised when she smacked him hard across the face. Jareth attempted to react but he felt his sister’s will holding him in his seat. He looked down at the hand she still held. He had been so shocked by his family’s betrayal he had allowed her to touch his skin. His sister’s powers were strongest when she could touch her victim. Jareth concentrated hard and was just able to tear his hand from hers. He felt the pressure cease immediately.
“Get a hold of yourself Jareth.” She said. “You haven’t been betrayed by anyone. Well not by your family in any case. We did it because we are worried about you Jareth. No other reason. We wanted to know what was wrong. You won’t talk to us. You aren’t yourself lately. You don’t attend balls. You never come round. You spend all your time pining over some mortal who’s humiliated you. You have stopped seeking a wife. You seem completely uninterested in siring an heir for your kingdom. Even you must admit that the old Jareth would have simply killed my Michelle and have done with it. Instead you, what? Dipped her in the bog? Stuck her in your oubliette?”
Her words cut Jareth. Each slicing him deeper and deeper. Through the pain of her statements he realized his sister had brought the conversation back to Michelle. She wanted to know what he had done to her. Lilith cared what became of the woman. Anger turned his blood cold. In that moment he wanted to hurt his sister. To make her experience some of the pain he was feeling. He conjured upon his fingertips a bubble. Jareth smiled bitterly and blew the bubble towards her.
It drifted gently close enough for Lilith to gaze into its depths. In the bubble she saw Michelle bent in half at the waist. Her head and shoulders were encased in a wooden stockade. Clumps of hair stuck out in matted chunks all over her head. Though you could not hear what was going on it was clear that she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Every few seconds she would seem to choke and struggle for breath. Jareth knew that the fumes of the Bog had overtaken her at these times. A barrel of ale had been placed under the woman’s stomach. Her torso rested uncomfortably upon it. Her dress was ripped and already very dirty but getting dirtier from the hands of the tall goblin who stood behind her grinding. Michelle let out a particularly vicious looking scream and the goblin laughed, and smacked her ass so hard it immediately brought up a bruise.
Lilith reached up and touched the image. It popped as if it were an ordinary bubble. For a moment pain showed clearly upon her face. Then it was gone and she turned, glared at her brother. “There was no need for all of that.”
Jareth spat “I disagree.”
Lilith waved her hand and persisted as if she hadn’t been disturbed by the vision. “Regardless you know what I said is true. Even if you don’t want to admit it. You need to think of the future. Not dwell in the past. Find someone new. Anyone. Any of the immortal court would give their teeth to be your bride. I know an elven princess from the Northern Realm. Or a nymphomaniac Duchess in my realm. For the love of your kingdom just let that girl go! She disgraces you. She humiliates you. Your subjects will never accept a mortal as your wife. What you seek is a fantasy. She can not rule by your side. She controls you. Everyone can see it but you. She calls and you jump. She has you on a string brother! Why can you not see it?”
Anger surged in Jareth. Part of him wanted to wrap his fingers around his sister’s throat and squeeze until he could no longer hear her voice. He stood up and walked away from her to lessen the temptation. Her words rang in his ears. Half formed thoughts floated across his mind. What does she… How could she… But still a small part of him heard the truth in her word. The longer he went without refuting her accusations the more weight they seemed to have.
Jareth was paralyzed by the confusing mixture of emotions he was experiencing. For the first time in his long life he did not know what to do or say.
Then a voice cut through his confused fog. A voice more precious to him than his jewels, or his castle, or even his kingdom.
“Jareth” Sarah’s voice filled Lilith’s throne room and reverberated off the walls.
“Ah.” Lilith voice was as cold as ice. “She commands your presence I see. Better get going then. Mustn’t keep her waiting.”
Her words aroused no anger in Jareth’s breast this time. Not when Sarah wanted him. Instead he smiled at his sister and said “Jealousy does not become you sister.” Then he disappeared leaving behind only a quick glimpse of a burst bubble.
“Nor does stupidity become you brother.” Lilith said. She reflected for a moment upon the sad state of affairs her brother found himself in. Then she sighed and clapped her hands.
The 5 dwarves returned to the room, running forward and standing in a line before her.
“You.” Lilith pointed at the dwarf who had been attending her breasts. “Michelle is being held in my brother’s bog. Go and bring her back to me.” Immediately the still naked dwarf turned and ran from the room.
“Would you like the rest of us M’lady?” the shortest of the dwarves asked her.
Lilith considered for a moment and then said “I suppose so.”
She reached behind her neck and pulled on the knotted material. It came loose and fell away as she lay back on the bed. The dwarves rubbed their hands together expectantly and then jumped on the bed.
Lilith’s last thought before 3 cocks filled her holes and distracted her was “Enjoy her my brother. You will find out soon enough.”
Saturday, December 12, 2009
A quick word on Dungeon Keeper
I love Dungeon keeper. If you know the game I am sure you will agree that it is fantastic. If you don’t, then let me acquaint you. The premise of the game is that you are a dungeon Keeper with various minions who work, toil, fight and die as you command. You carve your dungeon from the rock and build it to suit your taste or the mission at hand. The missions involve killing various goodly heroes throughout the realm until you kill the king who is the last bastillon keeping your evil from the Land of Light. It’s an evil version of The Sims. I love it. It is my all time favorite video game.
I recently bought a copy of t to replace my long lost copy. I was afraid time might mar my memories of how great it was. I am happy to report it has not. It’s challenging and the graphics aren’t bad for having been released in 98. It lets me indulge that dark side of myself that wants to take over the world. My dream job is to be an evil overlord. This game is just practice for me.
Anyway there are all these characters. Trolls who work in the workshop building traps to place around your dungeon. Wicked badasses like the Dark Angels. Imps that run around clearing land and claiming you territory. All sorts. But my favorite by far is the Mistresses. Yumm…. Tits out to here, wrapped in shiny vinyl, and all redheads. In order to attract the Mistresses to your dungeon you have to build a torture chamber. (See why this is up my alley? So I get to build these tricked out torture chambers with racks and wheels and water torture and all sorts of fun stuff. Just like I want for my very own. So the Mistresses will torture the heroes you capture or they jump on the racks themselves. That’s my favorite. Because they moan ever so delightfully.
I just finished a level where the goal was to capture and convert the king’s sons to fight for me. This involves kicking some prince ass, throwing them in my jail then subjecting them to the whims of my Mistresses in the torture chamber. I wrote this based off of that scenario. The princes are on the racks being stretched and moaning rather pitifully. The mistresses that aren’t beating them are right next to them on the racks moaning in utter delight. It seems to me they are mocking the heroes. And I love it!
Hot!
I recently bought a copy of t to replace my long lost copy. I was afraid time might mar my memories of how great it was. I am happy to report it has not. It’s challenging and the graphics aren’t bad for having been released in 98. It lets me indulge that dark side of myself that wants to take over the world. My dream job is to be an evil overlord. This game is just practice for me.
Anyway there are all these characters. Trolls who work in the workshop building traps to place around your dungeon. Wicked badasses like the Dark Angels. Imps that run around clearing land and claiming you territory. All sorts. But my favorite by far is the Mistresses. Yumm…. Tits out to here, wrapped in shiny vinyl, and all redheads. In order to attract the Mistresses to your dungeon you have to build a torture chamber. (See why this is up my alley? So I get to build these tricked out torture chambers with racks and wheels and water torture and all sorts of fun stuff. Just like I want for my very own. So the Mistresses will torture the heroes you capture or they jump on the racks themselves. That’s my favorite. Because they moan ever so delightfully.
I just finished a level where the goal was to capture and convert the king’s sons to fight for me. This involves kicking some prince ass, throwing them in my jail then subjecting them to the whims of my Mistresses in the torture chamber. I wrote this based off of that scenario. The princes are on the racks being stretched and moaning rather pitifully. The mistresses that aren’t beating them are right next to them on the racks moaning in utter delight. It seems to me they are mocking the heroes. And I love it!
Hot!
Friday, December 11, 2009
Plans...
For those of you both Perverted and Diverted I will be making an appearance tonight. Concider it my Christmas gift to you.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
It was 29 years ago today...
That the beautiful Sarah entered this world. I believe it was later that day that she and her mother were making inappropriate jokes about the doctors asses. Ahh... memories. Happy Birthday my love.
It's that time again!!!
It's begining to look a lot like Girl Scout Cookie Time...
Well not quite yet. Sales don't start till Jan 9th but I am giving you time to get ready. Because I am coming for your ass like a drunk repo man. :)
Well not quite yet. Sales don't start till Jan 9th but I am giving you time to get ready. Because I am coming for your ass like a drunk repo man. :)
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday Smut
A word on my stories. Just an fyi that some of these don't just contain sex scenes but scenes that deal with many different types of sex acts including some rather extreme stuff. You have been warned!
I will also be posting smut on Sundays so I hope you tune in religiously every Sunday!
Kisses!
I will also be posting smut on Sundays so I hope you tune in religiously every Sunday!
Kisses!
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Labyrinth FanFic Installment 3 Sunday Smut! NSFW
A knock resonated through the Throne Room.
Jareth answered it with a commanding “Enter.”
Two goblins entered frog marching a human girl between them. The goblins armor made a cacophony of metallic chinks and clunks as they marched. In their hands they clutched short staffs topped by sharp lethal spikes. The goblins themselves might have been comical with their oversized armor and mismatched weaponry but Jareth knew better. Goblins by nature were vicious, barbaric creatures prone to drunkenness and fits of rage. It made ruling over their species tedious, with the endless bickering and in-fighting. But Jareth endured all the headaches. The benefits of his subjects’ obedience far outweighed any annoyances Jareth might be forced to endure. Goblins men were fierce fighters that never questioned or disobeyed an order. Their loyalty was absolute. The women made able and energetic servants and served Jareth in most aspects of his life. Goblins themselves had no magic save one ability. They could hear wishes. Jareth had made ample use of their one talent over the years. Goblins were extremely susceptible to magic. In particular, his, magic. Jareth smiled to himself as these two approached his throne. Their armor continuing to creak and groan until the goblins came to a halt grabbing the girl roughly by the arm and forcing her to stop as well.
“The 4th maid of the chambers as you requested M’Lord.” The goblin to Jareth’s right heralded. His oversized lips making the goblin’s words come out soft and babyish.
“Yes, yes.” Jareth said waving his hand. “You may leave.”
The goblins quickly turned and double time marched from the room.
“All of you.” Jareth commanded. From every corner of the room there were hushed whispers and the sounds of small bodies shuffling. The noise ended abruptly with the sound of a small door shutting.
Sitting on his throne Jareth regarded the girl. Though girl was hardly the right term. Without the wig up close she looked at least 20 years older. He couldn’t believe he had been fooled. When first he realized the maid’s duplicity he had thought the girl might have tricked him with a minor glamour or a charm but one look at her and it was easy to surmise that the maid had no more magic than his subjects. Was it simply his own desire that had fooled his eyes? It was possible, Jareth concluded, but not probable.
The maid stood head bowed, eyes appropriately downcast. Her expression full of anxiety. Jareth studied the woman. Her hands fidgeted with her apron. He saw the crease on her forehead. The tilt of her head. She exuded nervous energy. It really was quite convincing. However Jareth could just make out the ever so slight smile at the corners of mouth. Had her life taken a different course Jareth had no difficulty in imagining her upon the stage and he her patron.
So apparently she was pleased with herself. Perhaps she though he had called her here to apologize. To grovel before her and beg her for absolution. In that little glint of a smile Jareth could see her plan laid out before her. It disturbed him that this woman had a plan at all. She was supposed to be a maid. Who was she?
“What is your name?” Jareth asked. His eyes continued to roam across her form.
The maid hesitated ever so slightly before answering. The effect was wasted upon Jareth. He heard the deliberateness of that hesitation. “Maggie sire.” Her voice quavered delicately.
“Don’t lie to me.” Jareth warned her.
“S..sire?” The maid seemed confused.
“What is your name?” Jareth asked again.
“I’m sorry sire. I told you. Me names Maggie.” The confusion in her voice was so genuine as was the gentle tremble of her chin. Jareth felt it tug at his heart. So she wasn’t just some scheming maid. She was a skilled liar indeed.
Jareth let out a sigh. “And I told you. You are lying.”
“I’m not m’lord. Me name’s Maggie. On me mother’s bones sire.”
“If you insist, Maggie, but I will hold you to that oath.” Jareth saw fear cloud the maid’s eyes but the next instant they were clear again. “Maggie, I have a problem.” Jareth said.
The maid’s eyes darted towards his face for a fraction of a second. “What’s that m’lord?”
“I have come across a situation that I simply don’t know how to handle. I’ve been mulling it over all day and I just can’t figure it out. I was hoping you might help me.”
The maids face shifted from innocent confusion to bewilderment. Almost rehearsed. “Me, sire?”
“Yes, you Maggie. You’re good at helping people when they need it, aren’t you?” Jareth tilted his head slightly to the side and smiled at the maid.
The maid stammered “I.. I try, m’lord.”
Jareth sank back into his throne. He threw an arm over one side of the giant curved arm of the throne and he let his leg dangle over the other side. “Oh you need not convince me of that. I know how very… helpful… you can be.” He laid delicate emphasis on the word ‘helpful’. The maid’s gaze followed the line of his body, flashing hungrily when her eyes rested on his crotch. “Which is, of course, why I wanted your opinion.”
This time true confusion showed plainly upon the maid’s face.
Jareth pushed himself up from his throne and approached the maid. “You see, I have been deceived.”
“Deceived?” The maid seemed to have blurted it out without thinking because for a brief second she looked angry with herself. But in a flash her face was rearranged into a somber and curious expression. “I mean. Deceived sire?
So she had a script and she hadn’t stuck to it. That was interesting. Jareth had closed the distance between them and began walking in a slow deliberate circle around her.
“Yes, deceived, dear… Maggie. See I try to be a just and fair ruler, not only to the goblins in my charge, but also the humans whom I allow so graciously to live within my kingdom. I want them to feel like the realm of the Labyrinth is their home. That they are safe within its walls. I want them to feel like I keep them safe. I want every subject to feel a personal connection to me. I want to be more than just their King, Lord and Master. I want to be their protector too. That each night they sleep easy because they feel my presence, my arms, wrapped around them, making sure that no harm befalls them.” As he described the sensations he focused upon the maid so that she might feel what he was describing. “I want them to hear my voice whispering in their ears telling them ‘You are safe.’” She had felt his arms around her, his breath on her ear. “Do you know what I mean?” Jareth came to a halt before the maid. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were slightly out of focus. After a lingering second the maid shook her head and her eyes cleared.
“I uh..I do…sire.” The maid said. Her tone was not that of a girl coming out of the light trance Jareth had wound through her brain with his words. Her tone was that of a soldier who had been caught neglecting their duties. How interesting. What had he caught? He could see her muscles were rigid. She would fight his influence and resist his trance. But she was too slow to hide her weakness from him. Jareth had already seen her undoing. Her desire. The unformed wish upon her lips. He had power over her and her flimsy will would not stand before him. He began circling her again.
“You see… Maggie, how hard I try. You see how my every thought and every action are for no other purpose than to protect my subjects. It is difficult. A life full of unfulfillment. A life of denying my wants and my desires for the sake of others. A life of loneliness and longing. To forever be tormented by that which is just beyond your fingertips. I know you understand me. I know you understand longing. I feel it within you.”
Jareth poured more than enough power into his words. This time when he stopped in front of her, her eyes remained slightly out of focus and her mouth hung limp. Jareth waved his hand in front of the woman’s face. Her eyes remained relaxed and unfocused. Jareth regarded the woman. She had made an effort to fight his magic. That took special training.
“Tell me your name.” Jareth commanded.
Without hesitation the maid said “Michelle.”
“Who do you work for Michelle?” Jareth asked. Discovering a spy within his castle walls was disconcerting but Jareth had many enemies. He must know who had been able to slip this past his watch.
“Lilith.” Michelle said. The words came out thickly, as if her tongue had fought revealing the truth even if her brain was his.
“Show me your wrist.” Jareth commanded. Michelle held her hand up. Jareth grabbed the sleeve of her dress and yanked it roughly down revealing the inside of her wrist. There, raised from the skin, was a small spiral brand. Jareth ran his finger slowly over the scarred skin.
“Ahh. And did you report our last encounter to her?” Jareth was both relieved and annoyed by this turn of events.
The girl’s voice was as distant as her eyes. “No.”
“Good. That makes things much simpler.” Jareth said and he clapped his hands. The woman blinked her eyes trying to bring them back into focus. At the same moment the Throne Room’s doors pushed open and the two goblin guards rushed in resuming their positions on either side of the woman. Jareth turned from the woman and returned to his throne. The woman blinked her eyes a few more times and closed her mouth as if she had just become aware that it was hanging open. After a second her eyes began darting around the room suspiciously. She knew something had happened but she didn’t know what. She could not remember. Jareth’s trance had been too strong.
Jareth smiled languorously at the woman as he seated himself. “You have proven most helpful Michelle.” At the mention of her name fear was plainly readable upon her face.
“S.sire?”
Jareth held up his hand. “Spare me your act. You have been caught. I will not kill you. It’s not worth the headache Lilith would inflict upon me. However I do not suffer spies in my land. Even if they are my sister’s property.” Jareth clapped his hands again and the goblins grabbed each of her arms. Michelle struggled to throw off the goblins hands, but they held her firm in their vice-like grip.
Jareth stood and walked to the balcony window that overlooked his kingdom. The goblin guards dragged the woman behind him. She began resisting, trying to pull away from her captors but their hands were like iron and could not be budged.
Jareth raised his hands to the world beyond his window and the world fell silent. The goblins below felt his influence. They stopped what they were doing and gazed upwards at their King. Once the square below his window fell still Jareth addressed his subjects.
“This woman,” Jareth reached behind him and grabbed the woman by her hair pulling her forward. The goblins released her but stayed immediately behind her. Once her arms were released she began grasping at her hair where Jareth held it firm. Jareth continued “has been discovered to be a spy.”
Below him the crowd of goblins jeered. Goblins especially hated disloyalty.
“She seeks to undermine our kingdom and destabilize my throne.” Jareth paused to allow his words to permeate the crowd. Anger quickly rose to the surface. The goblins grew louder in their indignation. Jareth heard one yell ‘Gut her!’ and another screamed ‘Rip her arms off!’. A few brandished what they were holding: brooms, sticks, a cat.
Jareth continued “I have decided to be merciful and spare her life.” As one the goblins groaned showing their displeasure. There was very little they liked more than a good execution. Jareth raised his free hand again and the crowd’s disappointment quieted. “No death would be too easy a punishment. To quickly finished. Instead I have decided upon torture.”
Below him the goblins screamed in delight. Jareth pushed the woman back into the goblin guards standing behind her. They grabbed her before she had time to struggle. Jareth bent down and pulled from his boot a dagger. He straightened up and held it above his head. The light reflected off the blade and the crowd yelled in excitement. Jareth turned to face the spy. Her eyes darted between his face and the dagger’s blade. She no longer fought the guards holding her tight. The sight of the blade had paralyzed her. She had obviously been threatened with a knife before. She began stammering “You…you..you pr..prom..promised..Youu…”
Jareth took a step forward and rested the tip of the blade on her lips. “Shhhh..” Jareth was mere inches from her. He could feel her whole form quivering. He looked deeply into her eyes, her pupils wide with terror. Jareth breathed her terror in and felt it strengthening him. With a wicked smile he moved the dagger from her lips to her chest, pressing the point of the blade into her skin. He pressed only for her to feel the pressure. It was not her skin he sought to cut. In a quick, fluid motion Jareth brought the dagger down. Plunging it down the length of her body. He moved too fast for her to see. Instead she had felt the sensation as the blade cut through every layer of clothing she had on. She felt the tip of the blade pressing into her skin just before the point of cutting, dragging down between her breasts, the length of her stomach, and past her swollen pussy. Jareth’s blade had plunged all the way to the floor leaving no part of her clothing connected. Her dress fell open, exposing her entire front to the gaping crowd of goblins below who cheered, screeched, and wolf whistled.
“Strip her.” Jareth commanded. Roughly the goblin guards yanked on her sleeves and the remnants of her dress fell to the floor. Jareth watched Michelle blush from head to toe as she tried in vain to cross her legs and cover her breasts with her hands. Jareth raised his hand towards her, fingertips together. As Jareth spread his fingertips the limbs of Michelle’s body began spreading and straightening. Michelle screamed as the invisible bonds stretched her tight while the vines that clung to the side of the castle began to grow towards her. Jareth willed the vines to ensnare her wrists and ankles. The vines continued to grow until their stalks were thick and tough as leather.
Jareth dropped his hand and admired his handiwork. The vines held Michelle stretched across the entire arched window. Her arms secure against the marble arch and her feet spread wide across the 4’ base of the window. Below the goblins surged with fresh enthusiasm. Even those across the square could see the slit between her spread legs.
Michelle’s skin began blotching bright red across her face and stomach. In her humiliation her entire breast had turned the most marvelous shade of magenta. Jareth slapped her tit. She cried out and the crowd’s excitement swelled again. Jareth watched where he had smacked turn white and then burn an even brighter red.
“You know, something isn’t quite right.” Jareth said as he raised his hand to the level of her eyes. Resting lightly on his fingertips was a bubble. Michelle raised her eyes and tried to look at the bubble but before she could clearly see the image within Jareth had dropped it at her feet. It smashed on the rock floor like glass. The fractured bubble did not dissolve into mist but remained jagged splinters on the rock. However most were obscured by the deep brunette wig that now lay upon the floor. Jareth bent down and picked up the wig. He then placed it gently on her head. Her eyes remained locked on him as he straightened the wig and tucked her blonde hair in. When he finished he said “There. You have no idea how cathartic this will be for me.” He smiled and then quickly climbed between her arm and leg to stand behind her.
Jareth extended his hand and a bubble fell lightly into his palm. Jareth closed his hand around the bubble and it transformed. Lengthening into a heavy leather flogger. Jareth hefted the flogger and began bringing its’ falls down across her back and ass. She screamed and tried to throw herself forward, away from the stinging leather but the vines held her tight. There was no escape. Jareth let the falls rain down until her back was as red as her front.
Jareth stepped into her body and ran his hand along her back, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. He spoke into her ear “This is only the beginning.” He then stepped back from her and squeezed the handle of the flogger. Immediately the flays stiffened and came together. They wound themselves and lengthened until they formed a 4’ long bullwhip. Jareth took a few more steps backward and without remorse let the whips tip bite across her back, bringing up red welts. Where his whip marks overlapped the redness of the skin took on a wetter sheen and streaks of red began following the whip. Each time the lash fell Michelle screamed with fresh pain. And each scream brought forth a cheer from the goblins. They were salivating in the sight of the human woman being whipped. Every time Jareth brought down the single tail the woman’s whole body took the impact causing her chest to lunge and her breasts bounced constantly. They loved how helpless she was to keep the lash from coming up between her legs, striking at her unprotected pussy. They cheered and screamed and stomped their approval.
Jareth continued to squeeze the handle and the instrument he was holding would begin to squirm in his hand until it took on another shape: A paddle, a cane, a ruler, rope. He brought down each instrument with acute precision. Again and again and again until Michelle stopped resisting. Until she hung limply from the vines. Only then did Jareth let the whip fall from his hand. It dissolved into mist before it hit the floor.
Jareth climbed back from her limp arms to stand in front of her. He faced his subjects who continued their tumultuous approval. Jareth yelled above the chaos “And thus to all spies in my kingdom.” The crowd went wild.
Jareth turned back to Michelle. When he had stopped she had hung loosely by the vines. Now she was unsteadily supported by her feet. To Jareth’s surprise she raised her head. Jareth could tell it took most of her strength but she held her head high and looked him directly in the face.
“You have had your fun.” Her voice trembled slightly from the beating she just received but it was stronger than Jareth would have imagined possible. “You don’t dare kill me. So send me back to you sister so I can tell her what you did to me, yesterday AND today.”
Jareth laughed and his laughter felt like nails raking across all the fresh wounds upon her back. “Ahh.” Jareth said, the laughter clearly evident in his voice. “The arrogance of humanity. You think that my sister will care what I have done to you. She will not.” To illustrate his point Jareth punched the woman in the stomach. Her body lurched forward. This time it took her a minute to regain her unsteady footing.
Jareth was surprised to hear a choked laugh coming from the woman. “She will. Do you think that you are the only one I tricked into my bed. You assume I am nothing but a spy to your sister. But you’re wrong. So send me back and let me tell her what you have done.”
Jareth laughed at the defiant look on her face half covered by the wig that had come loose and had shifted. Jareth reached out and pulled the wig free and let it drop. It dissolved into mist as it touched the floor. He then ran his finger along Michelle’s chin. “Oh Michelle. You assume I am done with you.”
Jareth turned back to his subjects who had grown restless during their exchange. “The spy will be taken from here to the Bog of Eternal Stench. She will be there shackled in the stockade and available for use by all loyal to their King. Let’s show her what we do to spies in the Labyrinth, shall we?”
The goblins went into hysterics, shrieking, throwing themselves and others around. They threw what they were holding in the air in jubilation. Spears, bread and chickens rained down upon the crowd now surging towards the eastern gate which led to the Bog.
Jareth clapped his hands and the two guard goblins reappeared on either side of the woman. They clamped their hands on her arms and Jareth waved his hands. The vines released her and began retreating. The woman’s face showed her shock.
“You..You wouldn’t dare.”
Jareth simply smiled as the guards turned her away from him. She began struggling and the guards began pulling her from the Throne Room. Jareth watched as she screamed and cursed him, trying to throw off the goblin’s hands. Jareth waved his hand and her scream ceased.
“Save your voice. You’ll need it. The boys love a good screamer, don’t you boys?” Jareth asked the goblin guards. They began chuckling darkly by way of answer.
Tears poured down the woman’s cheeks as she continued to struggle mutely. Jareth studied her for a moment. “Take her.” He said as he walked passed her to his throne.
The goblins began dragging the thrashing woman away. Just before they reached the door Jareth said “And boys. Make sure you tell the lads that she likes it rough. Trust me.”
The guards chuckled again and then pulled her from the room. Jareth saw her body buck one last time before she was pulled out of sight. Once the door closed Jareth released her and he heard her screams growing fainter and fainter as she was removed from the castle.
When at last her screams died out Jareth sat on his throne. He took a deep breath. Above him Jareth heard a muffled shuffle. With slight annoyance he called out “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” All around him was a flurry of movement as small goblins crowded back into the room. They returned to their usual positions and quickly the room was filled with their din. Jareth was in no mood for his subjects antics at the moment though. He stood up. Immediately one of the goblins asked him “Where are you going sire?”
Jareth sighed. “To see my sister.” And he disappeared.
Jareth answered it with a commanding “Enter.”
Two goblins entered frog marching a human girl between them. The goblins armor made a cacophony of metallic chinks and clunks as they marched. In their hands they clutched short staffs topped by sharp lethal spikes. The goblins themselves might have been comical with their oversized armor and mismatched weaponry but Jareth knew better. Goblins by nature were vicious, barbaric creatures prone to drunkenness and fits of rage. It made ruling over their species tedious, with the endless bickering and in-fighting. But Jareth endured all the headaches. The benefits of his subjects’ obedience far outweighed any annoyances Jareth might be forced to endure. Goblins men were fierce fighters that never questioned or disobeyed an order. Their loyalty was absolute. The women made able and energetic servants and served Jareth in most aspects of his life. Goblins themselves had no magic save one ability. They could hear wishes. Jareth had made ample use of their one talent over the years. Goblins were extremely susceptible to magic. In particular, his, magic. Jareth smiled to himself as these two approached his throne. Their armor continuing to creak and groan until the goblins came to a halt grabbing the girl roughly by the arm and forcing her to stop as well.
“The 4th maid of the chambers as you requested M’Lord.” The goblin to Jareth’s right heralded. His oversized lips making the goblin’s words come out soft and babyish.
“Yes, yes.” Jareth said waving his hand. “You may leave.”
The goblins quickly turned and double time marched from the room.
“All of you.” Jareth commanded. From every corner of the room there were hushed whispers and the sounds of small bodies shuffling. The noise ended abruptly with the sound of a small door shutting.
Sitting on his throne Jareth regarded the girl. Though girl was hardly the right term. Without the wig up close she looked at least 20 years older. He couldn’t believe he had been fooled. When first he realized the maid’s duplicity he had thought the girl might have tricked him with a minor glamour or a charm but one look at her and it was easy to surmise that the maid had no more magic than his subjects. Was it simply his own desire that had fooled his eyes? It was possible, Jareth concluded, but not probable.
The maid stood head bowed, eyes appropriately downcast. Her expression full of anxiety. Jareth studied the woman. Her hands fidgeted with her apron. He saw the crease on her forehead. The tilt of her head. She exuded nervous energy. It really was quite convincing. However Jareth could just make out the ever so slight smile at the corners of mouth. Had her life taken a different course Jareth had no difficulty in imagining her upon the stage and he her patron.
So apparently she was pleased with herself. Perhaps she though he had called her here to apologize. To grovel before her and beg her for absolution. In that little glint of a smile Jareth could see her plan laid out before her. It disturbed him that this woman had a plan at all. She was supposed to be a maid. Who was she?
“What is your name?” Jareth asked. His eyes continued to roam across her form.
The maid hesitated ever so slightly before answering. The effect was wasted upon Jareth. He heard the deliberateness of that hesitation. “Maggie sire.” Her voice quavered delicately.
“Don’t lie to me.” Jareth warned her.
“S..sire?” The maid seemed confused.
“What is your name?” Jareth asked again.
“I’m sorry sire. I told you. Me names Maggie.” The confusion in her voice was so genuine as was the gentle tremble of her chin. Jareth felt it tug at his heart. So she wasn’t just some scheming maid. She was a skilled liar indeed.
Jareth let out a sigh. “And I told you. You are lying.”
“I’m not m’lord. Me name’s Maggie. On me mother’s bones sire.”
“If you insist, Maggie, but I will hold you to that oath.” Jareth saw fear cloud the maid’s eyes but the next instant they were clear again. “Maggie, I have a problem.” Jareth said.
The maid’s eyes darted towards his face for a fraction of a second. “What’s that m’lord?”
“I have come across a situation that I simply don’t know how to handle. I’ve been mulling it over all day and I just can’t figure it out. I was hoping you might help me.”
The maids face shifted from innocent confusion to bewilderment. Almost rehearsed. “Me, sire?”
“Yes, you Maggie. You’re good at helping people when they need it, aren’t you?” Jareth tilted his head slightly to the side and smiled at the maid.
The maid stammered “I.. I try, m’lord.”
Jareth sank back into his throne. He threw an arm over one side of the giant curved arm of the throne and he let his leg dangle over the other side. “Oh you need not convince me of that. I know how very… helpful… you can be.” He laid delicate emphasis on the word ‘helpful’. The maid’s gaze followed the line of his body, flashing hungrily when her eyes rested on his crotch. “Which is, of course, why I wanted your opinion.”
This time true confusion showed plainly upon the maid’s face.
Jareth pushed himself up from his throne and approached the maid. “You see, I have been deceived.”
“Deceived?” The maid seemed to have blurted it out without thinking because for a brief second she looked angry with herself. But in a flash her face was rearranged into a somber and curious expression. “I mean. Deceived sire?
So she had a script and she hadn’t stuck to it. That was interesting. Jareth had closed the distance between them and began walking in a slow deliberate circle around her.
“Yes, deceived, dear… Maggie. See I try to be a just and fair ruler, not only to the goblins in my charge, but also the humans whom I allow so graciously to live within my kingdom. I want them to feel like the realm of the Labyrinth is their home. That they are safe within its walls. I want them to feel like I keep them safe. I want every subject to feel a personal connection to me. I want to be more than just their King, Lord and Master. I want to be their protector too. That each night they sleep easy because they feel my presence, my arms, wrapped around them, making sure that no harm befalls them.” As he described the sensations he focused upon the maid so that she might feel what he was describing. “I want them to hear my voice whispering in their ears telling them ‘You are safe.’” She had felt his arms around her, his breath on her ear. “Do you know what I mean?” Jareth came to a halt before the maid. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were slightly out of focus. After a lingering second the maid shook her head and her eyes cleared.
“I uh..I do…sire.” The maid said. Her tone was not that of a girl coming out of the light trance Jareth had wound through her brain with his words. Her tone was that of a soldier who had been caught neglecting their duties. How interesting. What had he caught? He could see her muscles were rigid. She would fight his influence and resist his trance. But she was too slow to hide her weakness from him. Jareth had already seen her undoing. Her desire. The unformed wish upon her lips. He had power over her and her flimsy will would not stand before him. He began circling her again.
“You see… Maggie, how hard I try. You see how my every thought and every action are for no other purpose than to protect my subjects. It is difficult. A life full of unfulfillment. A life of denying my wants and my desires for the sake of others. A life of loneliness and longing. To forever be tormented by that which is just beyond your fingertips. I know you understand me. I know you understand longing. I feel it within you.”
Jareth poured more than enough power into his words. This time when he stopped in front of her, her eyes remained slightly out of focus and her mouth hung limp. Jareth waved his hand in front of the woman’s face. Her eyes remained relaxed and unfocused. Jareth regarded the woman. She had made an effort to fight his magic. That took special training.
“Tell me your name.” Jareth commanded.
Without hesitation the maid said “Michelle.”
“Who do you work for Michelle?” Jareth asked. Discovering a spy within his castle walls was disconcerting but Jareth had many enemies. He must know who had been able to slip this past his watch.
“Lilith.” Michelle said. The words came out thickly, as if her tongue had fought revealing the truth even if her brain was his.
“Show me your wrist.” Jareth commanded. Michelle held her hand up. Jareth grabbed the sleeve of her dress and yanked it roughly down revealing the inside of her wrist. There, raised from the skin, was a small spiral brand. Jareth ran his finger slowly over the scarred skin.
“Ahh. And did you report our last encounter to her?” Jareth was both relieved and annoyed by this turn of events.
The girl’s voice was as distant as her eyes. “No.”
“Good. That makes things much simpler.” Jareth said and he clapped his hands. The woman blinked her eyes trying to bring them back into focus. At the same moment the Throne Room’s doors pushed open and the two goblin guards rushed in resuming their positions on either side of the woman. Jareth turned from the woman and returned to his throne. The woman blinked her eyes a few more times and closed her mouth as if she had just become aware that it was hanging open. After a second her eyes began darting around the room suspiciously. She knew something had happened but she didn’t know what. She could not remember. Jareth’s trance had been too strong.
Jareth smiled languorously at the woman as he seated himself. “You have proven most helpful Michelle.” At the mention of her name fear was plainly readable upon her face.
“S.sire?”
Jareth held up his hand. “Spare me your act. You have been caught. I will not kill you. It’s not worth the headache Lilith would inflict upon me. However I do not suffer spies in my land. Even if they are my sister’s property.” Jareth clapped his hands again and the goblins grabbed each of her arms. Michelle struggled to throw off the goblins hands, but they held her firm in their vice-like grip.
Jareth stood and walked to the balcony window that overlooked his kingdom. The goblin guards dragged the woman behind him. She began resisting, trying to pull away from her captors but their hands were like iron and could not be budged.
Jareth raised his hands to the world beyond his window and the world fell silent. The goblins below felt his influence. They stopped what they were doing and gazed upwards at their King. Once the square below his window fell still Jareth addressed his subjects.
“This woman,” Jareth reached behind him and grabbed the woman by her hair pulling her forward. The goblins released her but stayed immediately behind her. Once her arms were released she began grasping at her hair where Jareth held it firm. Jareth continued “has been discovered to be a spy.”
Below him the crowd of goblins jeered. Goblins especially hated disloyalty.
“She seeks to undermine our kingdom and destabilize my throne.” Jareth paused to allow his words to permeate the crowd. Anger quickly rose to the surface. The goblins grew louder in their indignation. Jareth heard one yell ‘Gut her!’ and another screamed ‘Rip her arms off!’. A few brandished what they were holding: brooms, sticks, a cat.
Jareth continued “I have decided to be merciful and spare her life.” As one the goblins groaned showing their displeasure. There was very little they liked more than a good execution. Jareth raised his free hand again and the crowd’s disappointment quieted. “No death would be too easy a punishment. To quickly finished. Instead I have decided upon torture.”
Below him the goblins screamed in delight. Jareth pushed the woman back into the goblin guards standing behind her. They grabbed her before she had time to struggle. Jareth bent down and pulled from his boot a dagger. He straightened up and held it above his head. The light reflected off the blade and the crowd yelled in excitement. Jareth turned to face the spy. Her eyes darted between his face and the dagger’s blade. She no longer fought the guards holding her tight. The sight of the blade had paralyzed her. She had obviously been threatened with a knife before. She began stammering “You…you..you pr..prom..promised..Youu…”
Jareth took a step forward and rested the tip of the blade on her lips. “Shhhh..” Jareth was mere inches from her. He could feel her whole form quivering. He looked deeply into her eyes, her pupils wide with terror. Jareth breathed her terror in and felt it strengthening him. With a wicked smile he moved the dagger from her lips to her chest, pressing the point of the blade into her skin. He pressed only for her to feel the pressure. It was not her skin he sought to cut. In a quick, fluid motion Jareth brought the dagger down. Plunging it down the length of her body. He moved too fast for her to see. Instead she had felt the sensation as the blade cut through every layer of clothing she had on. She felt the tip of the blade pressing into her skin just before the point of cutting, dragging down between her breasts, the length of her stomach, and past her swollen pussy. Jareth’s blade had plunged all the way to the floor leaving no part of her clothing connected. Her dress fell open, exposing her entire front to the gaping crowd of goblins below who cheered, screeched, and wolf whistled.
“Strip her.” Jareth commanded. Roughly the goblin guards yanked on her sleeves and the remnants of her dress fell to the floor. Jareth watched Michelle blush from head to toe as she tried in vain to cross her legs and cover her breasts with her hands. Jareth raised his hand towards her, fingertips together. As Jareth spread his fingertips the limbs of Michelle’s body began spreading and straightening. Michelle screamed as the invisible bonds stretched her tight while the vines that clung to the side of the castle began to grow towards her. Jareth willed the vines to ensnare her wrists and ankles. The vines continued to grow until their stalks were thick and tough as leather.
Jareth dropped his hand and admired his handiwork. The vines held Michelle stretched across the entire arched window. Her arms secure against the marble arch and her feet spread wide across the 4’ base of the window. Below the goblins surged with fresh enthusiasm. Even those across the square could see the slit between her spread legs.
Michelle’s skin began blotching bright red across her face and stomach. In her humiliation her entire breast had turned the most marvelous shade of magenta. Jareth slapped her tit. She cried out and the crowd’s excitement swelled again. Jareth watched where he had smacked turn white and then burn an even brighter red.
“You know, something isn’t quite right.” Jareth said as he raised his hand to the level of her eyes. Resting lightly on his fingertips was a bubble. Michelle raised her eyes and tried to look at the bubble but before she could clearly see the image within Jareth had dropped it at her feet. It smashed on the rock floor like glass. The fractured bubble did not dissolve into mist but remained jagged splinters on the rock. However most were obscured by the deep brunette wig that now lay upon the floor. Jareth bent down and picked up the wig. He then placed it gently on her head. Her eyes remained locked on him as he straightened the wig and tucked her blonde hair in. When he finished he said “There. You have no idea how cathartic this will be for me.” He smiled and then quickly climbed between her arm and leg to stand behind her.
Jareth extended his hand and a bubble fell lightly into his palm. Jareth closed his hand around the bubble and it transformed. Lengthening into a heavy leather flogger. Jareth hefted the flogger and began bringing its’ falls down across her back and ass. She screamed and tried to throw herself forward, away from the stinging leather but the vines held her tight. There was no escape. Jareth let the falls rain down until her back was as red as her front.
Jareth stepped into her body and ran his hand along her back, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. He spoke into her ear “This is only the beginning.” He then stepped back from her and squeezed the handle of the flogger. Immediately the flays stiffened and came together. They wound themselves and lengthened until they formed a 4’ long bullwhip. Jareth took a few more steps backward and without remorse let the whips tip bite across her back, bringing up red welts. Where his whip marks overlapped the redness of the skin took on a wetter sheen and streaks of red began following the whip. Each time the lash fell Michelle screamed with fresh pain. And each scream brought forth a cheer from the goblins. They were salivating in the sight of the human woman being whipped. Every time Jareth brought down the single tail the woman’s whole body took the impact causing her chest to lunge and her breasts bounced constantly. They loved how helpless she was to keep the lash from coming up between her legs, striking at her unprotected pussy. They cheered and screamed and stomped their approval.
Jareth continued to squeeze the handle and the instrument he was holding would begin to squirm in his hand until it took on another shape: A paddle, a cane, a ruler, rope. He brought down each instrument with acute precision. Again and again and again until Michelle stopped resisting. Until she hung limply from the vines. Only then did Jareth let the whip fall from his hand. It dissolved into mist before it hit the floor.
Jareth climbed back from her limp arms to stand in front of her. He faced his subjects who continued their tumultuous approval. Jareth yelled above the chaos “And thus to all spies in my kingdom.” The crowd went wild.
Jareth turned back to Michelle. When he had stopped she had hung loosely by the vines. Now she was unsteadily supported by her feet. To Jareth’s surprise she raised her head. Jareth could tell it took most of her strength but she held her head high and looked him directly in the face.
“You have had your fun.” Her voice trembled slightly from the beating she just received but it was stronger than Jareth would have imagined possible. “You don’t dare kill me. So send me back to you sister so I can tell her what you did to me, yesterday AND today.”
Jareth laughed and his laughter felt like nails raking across all the fresh wounds upon her back. “Ahh.” Jareth said, the laughter clearly evident in his voice. “The arrogance of humanity. You think that my sister will care what I have done to you. She will not.” To illustrate his point Jareth punched the woman in the stomach. Her body lurched forward. This time it took her a minute to regain her unsteady footing.
Jareth was surprised to hear a choked laugh coming from the woman. “She will. Do you think that you are the only one I tricked into my bed. You assume I am nothing but a spy to your sister. But you’re wrong. So send me back and let me tell her what you have done.”
Jareth laughed at the defiant look on her face half covered by the wig that had come loose and had shifted. Jareth reached out and pulled the wig free and let it drop. It dissolved into mist as it touched the floor. He then ran his finger along Michelle’s chin. “Oh Michelle. You assume I am done with you.”
Jareth turned back to his subjects who had grown restless during their exchange. “The spy will be taken from here to the Bog of Eternal Stench. She will be there shackled in the stockade and available for use by all loyal to their King. Let’s show her what we do to spies in the Labyrinth, shall we?”
The goblins went into hysterics, shrieking, throwing themselves and others around. They threw what they were holding in the air in jubilation. Spears, bread and chickens rained down upon the crowd now surging towards the eastern gate which led to the Bog.
Jareth clapped his hands and the two guard goblins reappeared on either side of the woman. They clamped their hands on her arms and Jareth waved his hands. The vines released her and began retreating. The woman’s face showed her shock.
“You..You wouldn’t dare.”
Jareth simply smiled as the guards turned her away from him. She began struggling and the guards began pulling her from the Throne Room. Jareth watched as she screamed and cursed him, trying to throw off the goblin’s hands. Jareth waved his hand and her scream ceased.
“Save your voice. You’ll need it. The boys love a good screamer, don’t you boys?” Jareth asked the goblin guards. They began chuckling darkly by way of answer.
Tears poured down the woman’s cheeks as she continued to struggle mutely. Jareth studied her for a moment. “Take her.” He said as he walked passed her to his throne.
The goblins began dragging the thrashing woman away. Just before they reached the door Jareth said “And boys. Make sure you tell the lads that she likes it rough. Trust me.”
The guards chuckled again and then pulled her from the room. Jareth saw her body buck one last time before she was pulled out of sight. Once the door closed Jareth released her and he heard her screams growing fainter and fainter as she was removed from the castle.
When at last her screams died out Jareth sat on his throne. He took a deep breath. Above him Jareth heard a muffled shuffle. With slight annoyance he called out “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” All around him was a flurry of movement as small goblins crowded back into the room. They returned to their usual positions and quickly the room was filled with their din. Jareth was in no mood for his subjects antics at the moment though. He stood up. Immediately one of the goblins asked him “Where are you going sire?”
Jareth sighed. “To see my sister.” And he disappeared.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Another reason why I love my family....
My mother is addicted to Battered Women TV(tm) otherwise known as Lifetime and Hallmark. Adicted. Anyway. She is watching (and thus forcing us as we are at her house) to watch some horrible Christmas crap. There's this guy, I think it might be Columbo, who keeps showing up different places to help comfort this little girl. My mom makes the comment, "I think he's an angel!" My husband says "Oh? I thought he was a pedifile!"
Ahh... Christmas... heheheee.
My mother is addicted to Battered Women TV(tm) otherwise known as Lifetime and Hallmark. Adicted. Anyway. She is watching (and thus forcing us as we are at her house) to watch some horrible Christmas crap. There's this guy, I think it might be Columbo, who keeps showing up different places to help comfort this little girl. My mom makes the comment, "I think he's an angel!" My husband says "Oh? I thought he was a pedifile!"
Ahh... Christmas... heheheee.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Labyrinth Fan Fic Installment 2 NSFW There's sex Mofo!
Jareth awoke with a start. Immediately he burrowed deeper into his goblin spun comforter, shutting his eyes tight. He was trying to lure the dream back. Under the darkness of the blanket he could almost see Sarah’s naked form dancing before him. But with each lunge of her breast and every twist of her hips she faded until there was nothing more than darkness.
Jareth’s cock raged in protest. He moved his hand down to comfort his angry friend. His dick was swollen fit to burst. The smallest movement of his hand caused electricity to shoot up his rigid shaft. Jareth began moving his hand up and down the long length. He tried to imagine that it was not his hand traveling from the head of his cock to the base and back again. It was hers. His cock grew warmer still, throbbing, aching. Jareth tried again to recapture that glorious image of her naked breasts. But soon he realized that her arousing form had escaped him.
Reluctantly he released his swollen cock and let it rest on his belly. Even lying there he could feel its’ gentle throb of his desire.
No sanitized image of Sarah’s perfect body undulating for him would suffice to quell his desire today. Not when he had been so close to the real thing last night. Jareth smiled as his cock gave a jump, like an eager puppy, at the memory. He reached down and patted its’ head and then crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back to reflect on that perfect night.
She had seen him. That meant something. She probably believed he had simply popped into her room in hopes of a quick mind fuck. Jareth chuckled at her naivety but then fell into a somber mood. It was better that she didn’t know the truth. That he was always there. Every time she brought home another. Every time she opened her legs up to someone that wasn’t him; he saw. Every time he had to watch his Sarah choking down on another cock it felt like a form of rape. Yet every time he masochistically made himself stay there and watch. Watch his Sarah being pounded by this man or that. Watch another man where he ought to be. He felt jealousy so acute that it had threatened to tear him apart. Or more precisely it almost caused him to tear apart the parade of stupid men who had no idea how to go about pleasuring an ordinary woman, let alone his goddess.
The handful of times she had seen him was due not to anything he had done, rather her desire for him to be there. She saw through his obfuscation. She saw him watching her. And she had liked it.
His cock jumped again but Jareth continued to ignore it, focusing instead on his reflections.
No matter how many times she turned away from him deep down she knew, the same as he, that they would never find pleasure in another. They were meant to be together. They were destined to spend eternity entangled in each others’ thighs.
He had told her as much the first time she had seen him following that horrible day when she had spurned him. The memory was painful to him, like a wound that you couldn’t stop poking. Though it hurt him, he could not stop himself from proding that memory.
He remembered watching as some middle aged slob writhed around atop her. As usual the anger had been pounding in his ears and he had been indulging in a fantasy of drowning the lumbering oaf in the bog when her voice cut across his thoughts.
“Jareth” she had moaned in his mind.
At first he thought she had seen him but her eyes were still tightly shut. It took him only a second to figure out what had happened. Her mind, always the closed book to him which of course was part of the reason he found her so compelling, had opened up to him. In this moment while she let the pathetic man grind on her she was thinking of him, Jareth. She wanted it to be him instead of this stranger. He had heard her voice in his mind. She wished she could feel Jareth’s mouth on her skin.
And that small wish was all Jareth needed.
He wanted to pounce upon her but he dared not. He had been waiting too long for this moment and Jareth was not going to allow it to be ruined by desirous haste. Instead he mustered all of his restraint, sitting lightly on the bed next to her, and ever so gently kissed her cheek as if she were made of the most delicate glass and might break if he applied too much pressure. Her skin was softer than he had ever dared imagine. And where his lips touched her soft skin burned. Sarah’s breath had caught in her throat. And that small gasp sent ripples of excitement coursing through Jareth.
Hardly daring to breathe Jareth whispered “I am yours eternally, my love.”
For the second time Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. However this time it was not extasy that stopped her breathing. Her eyes popped open and every line upon her body went rigid. She stared wildly around the room. Jareth smiled warmly. He had waited so long for this moment but even as he held his breath in eager anticipation it registered that her eyes were not finding his smile. They just kept darting around the room, freightened. Jareth waved his hand in front of her eyes.
“Sarah” he said loudly.
Still her eyes had continued to search the room, the same paniced look upon her face.
Jareth shook his head to clear it. The image of his Sarah’s panicked face haunted him. It had taken him a long while to understand that Sarah had not wished he was there that night. She had only wished to feel his presence. However when she had felt him on her skin, when she had heard his voice, it scared her so badly that she had carefully guarded herself for a long time to come leaving Jareth in abject misery.
It had taken Jareth years of careful torturous observation before she let her guard slip.
‘It was all worth it’ Jareth thought to himself remembering the previous night. Now she couldn’t deny how good they were together. How natural it felt. How right.
A knock came from the door.
“Enter” Jareth called, in a good mood.
One of his maids came in and curtsied to Jareth. She was a young girl, perhaps 16. It was hard for him to tell with her long dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders. When she dropped her head in deference to him the long cascade all but hid her face. The maid’s hair was precisely the same color as his Sarah’s. In her hands she held a breakfast tray. Jareth waved his hand and she came toward the bed. He sat up and allowed her to place the tray across his lap. Jareth took the cover off his dish and picked up a fresh perfect plump strawberry. He stared at it and imagined the time when he would feed a strawberry exactly like this one to Sarah. How it would look resting on her lips as she bit into it. The juice running across her lips. Jareth smiled.
The maid said “You are in a good mood today sire.” As she stoked the fire.
Jareth continued to look at the strawberry. “I am.”
“Only one thing makes you smile like that sire. Things going well with your lady friend then?” The maid asked. She had stopped tending the fire.
“Yes” Jareth twirled the strawberry by it’s stem trying to decide if the strawberry would make Sarah’s skin more delicious or if her skin would make the strawberry more. But once again the girl interrupted his thoughts.
“That’s good sire. I sure am glad to hear that. I was wondering if there was something wrong with her sire. Not wanting someone like yourself, I mean.”
Annoyance prickled Jareth’s neck.
“She finally admit she loves you sire?”
Jareth’s vision flashed red. When it cleared he looked at his hand to find the strawberry crushed in his palm.
“Oh sire.” The girl cried as she rushed over to the bed. She began wipeing the remains of the strawberry out of his hand with the apron she had tied around her waist. “I’m so sorry sire. That was my fault running me mouth off when I shouldn’t. I’m ever so sorry sire. It’s just I can’t think why a woman would not love you. Why doesn’t she love you sire?”
Jareth’s hands began to shake. Her words rang in his ears ‘why doesn’t she love you?’ and all trace of the happiness that warmed him was gone. Ice pumped from his heart. Icy anger that drowned any other emotion. The anger pumped through him. His nerves were burning in cold fury. His eyes locked onto the girls. Her mouth halted mid sentence. The seconds stretched from one to the next while silence echoed in the room. Then after 2 breathes the maid lept from the side of the bed and began to run for the door. The maid’s sudden movement brought forth the predator in Jareth, the owl. In less than a breath he had thrown off the tray and lept from the bed. The girl screamed as he closed the distance between them. She screamed still louder as Jareth collided with the her, sandwiching her between his body and the door. Quick as a flash he turned the girl around to face him. She began beating at his chest with her arms. Her hands flailed as he grabbed each wrist and pinned them to her side. When she lost control of her limbs she began throwing her body from side to side, desperately trying to escape his clutches.
She struggled against him feeding his rage. Blood turned cold with anger filled his neglected cock, making it ache. Jareth felt that anger within him like a poison. A poison he must expel if he were to survive. Jareth shifted his grip on the girl and grabbed her around the waist. He threw her over his shoulder. The impact of his shoulder knocked the breath out of her momentairily but she soon began screaming again. Hitting his back and kicking at his chest.
Jareth threw her onto the bed so roughly she bounced four times before coming to rest. Tears were running down her face and she scooted away from him on the bed. She was mouthing the words “Please sire” over and over again but no sound came out. Just a low strangled kind of noise. Her fear fed Jareth’s rage.
He lunged at her. She threw herself sideways and tried to crawl away off the far end of the massive bed but Jareth grabbed her by the ankle. He pulled her backward until her ass was nestled into his crotch. She tried to crawl forward again but Jareth snaked his hand up, grabbed her by her hair and pushed her face down into the bed. Quick as thought Jareth ripped the girl’s skirts open with his spare hand. And with no preamble then slammed his rigid cock deep into the girls pussy.
The maid ceased to exisit. Jareth gave himself over to the anger and the fury that he kept so pent up within him for so long. All the anger he felt towards Sarah for spuring his love. All of the rejection. All of the bitterness. All the rage of being helpless in her grasp. He wanted it out of him. He threw his hips forward and pumped as he felt the poison consolidating within him. And with a rage so solid Jareth felt it would choke the life from him he felt the poison explode from him. He screamed as it pumped from him. He screamed until there was nothing left. He felt cleansed. Renewed. Relieved of it’s burdon.
There was a muffled cry into the bed. Jareth became aware that the maid had been the receiving end of his purge. He pulled himself free from her and then rolled over on the bed. He waved and hand and told her to leave. The girl crawled off the bed and without a word walked to the door, reaching behind her to pull her ripped dress shut. She turned and curtsied before she disappeared through the door.
Jareth didn’t think for a long while. He stared into nothingness and thought of nobody. He simply basked in the glow of his cleanse. Eventually though thoughts did penetrate his blissful silence. And the first was remorse. That girl had done nothing to him but try to comfort him. And what had he done? Raped her. Well he couldn’t apologize. That just wouldn’t be fitting. But he decided to make sure she was at least alright. If she needed medical attention he should make sure a Docglin would see her. It wouldn’t be the first time he had hurt someone when he had these rages.
Jareth twisted his hand and out of nothing he pulled a bubble which rested lightly upon his fingertips. Jareth gazed at the image in the bubble.
In the bubble the maid he had just mercilessly raped was sitting in a corridor. There were three other maids crowded around her. Jareth imposed his will on one of the other maids to make the girl ask “Are you hurt?”
Jareth’s surprise the maid lifted her head and smiled. She lifted a cigarette to her lips and took a deep drag. “Nah.” She said still smiling. “Though I tell you he’s a big boy, if you know what I mean. Could’ve put me eye out he could!”
The maids all giggled. One said “You shouldn’t get him angry you know! He could hurt you!”
The girl he had raped replied “Trust that he did hurt me a bit. But the good way, you know? Besides it’s worth it. I have to get him good and angry. It’s the only way he’ll look at me. Well that and…” and the girl reached up and pulled on her hair. To Jareth’s shock her long dark hair pulled free.
The girl he raped instantly looked 10 years older. Her dirty blonde hair emphasized the wrinkles in her face. She scratched her nails through her hair and said “He don’t like blondes like me. He likes em dark with long hair.”
The oldest of the maids said as she snactched the wig from the maid he had raped hands“Maybe I’ll borrow that from you sometime. I wouldn’t mind takeing a go at the Master.” She giggled.
The maid he had raped grabbed it back. “Get your own wig. But I tell you it’s dead easy. You just got to check his morning sheets. See if he hasn’t… you know… dirtied them. If he hasn’t he will be on edge and ready to go. Just say something about that tart of his not loving him and he’ll be inside you in a matter of seconds. Just make sure you scream a lot and make it look real or he won’t be interested.”
Jareth’s blood turned to ice. He threw the bubble and it crashed against the wall. It’s pieces changing to mist and dissolving.
“Used” he said to himself. “Sarah uses me to fulfill her desires while denying me mine and even my maids use me for their own amusement.”
Jareth pushed himself out of the bed and walked to the window. As he stood naked before the rising sun his kingdom stretched out endlessly before him. The rising sun creating dark shadows that filled his labrynth. Unbidden pride swelled within Jareth’s chest. He looked down at the village surrounding his castle. He saw his goblin’s already beginning their day, toiling for him. For him.
Standing there Jareth remembered something. He was not some smitten school boy to have his heart crushed beneath his sweetheart’s boot. He was not helpless. Not to her or to anyone. He was the King of the Goblins. He was Lord of the Labrynth. He would make her love him. He would bend her will to suit his if he must but he was done being her puppet. She would be his. She would love him. She had no other option.
Jareth’s cock raged in protest. He moved his hand down to comfort his angry friend. His dick was swollen fit to burst. The smallest movement of his hand caused electricity to shoot up his rigid shaft. Jareth began moving his hand up and down the long length. He tried to imagine that it was not his hand traveling from the head of his cock to the base and back again. It was hers. His cock grew warmer still, throbbing, aching. Jareth tried again to recapture that glorious image of her naked breasts. But soon he realized that her arousing form had escaped him.
Reluctantly he released his swollen cock and let it rest on his belly. Even lying there he could feel its’ gentle throb of his desire.
No sanitized image of Sarah’s perfect body undulating for him would suffice to quell his desire today. Not when he had been so close to the real thing last night. Jareth smiled as his cock gave a jump, like an eager puppy, at the memory. He reached down and patted its’ head and then crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back to reflect on that perfect night.
She had seen him. That meant something. She probably believed he had simply popped into her room in hopes of a quick mind fuck. Jareth chuckled at her naivety but then fell into a somber mood. It was better that she didn’t know the truth. That he was always there. Every time she brought home another. Every time she opened her legs up to someone that wasn’t him; he saw. Every time he had to watch his Sarah choking down on another cock it felt like a form of rape. Yet every time he masochistically made himself stay there and watch. Watch his Sarah being pounded by this man or that. Watch another man where he ought to be. He felt jealousy so acute that it had threatened to tear him apart. Or more precisely it almost caused him to tear apart the parade of stupid men who had no idea how to go about pleasuring an ordinary woman, let alone his goddess.
The handful of times she had seen him was due not to anything he had done, rather her desire for him to be there. She saw through his obfuscation. She saw him watching her. And she had liked it.
His cock jumped again but Jareth continued to ignore it, focusing instead on his reflections.
No matter how many times she turned away from him deep down she knew, the same as he, that they would never find pleasure in another. They were meant to be together. They were destined to spend eternity entangled in each others’ thighs.
He had told her as much the first time she had seen him following that horrible day when she had spurned him. The memory was painful to him, like a wound that you couldn’t stop poking. Though it hurt him, he could not stop himself from proding that memory.
He remembered watching as some middle aged slob writhed around atop her. As usual the anger had been pounding in his ears and he had been indulging in a fantasy of drowning the lumbering oaf in the bog when her voice cut across his thoughts.
“Jareth” she had moaned in his mind.
At first he thought she had seen him but her eyes were still tightly shut. It took him only a second to figure out what had happened. Her mind, always the closed book to him which of course was part of the reason he found her so compelling, had opened up to him. In this moment while she let the pathetic man grind on her she was thinking of him, Jareth. She wanted it to be him instead of this stranger. He had heard her voice in his mind. She wished she could feel Jareth’s mouth on her skin.
And that small wish was all Jareth needed.
He wanted to pounce upon her but he dared not. He had been waiting too long for this moment and Jareth was not going to allow it to be ruined by desirous haste. Instead he mustered all of his restraint, sitting lightly on the bed next to her, and ever so gently kissed her cheek as if she were made of the most delicate glass and might break if he applied too much pressure. Her skin was softer than he had ever dared imagine. And where his lips touched her soft skin burned. Sarah’s breath had caught in her throat. And that small gasp sent ripples of excitement coursing through Jareth.
Hardly daring to breathe Jareth whispered “I am yours eternally, my love.”
For the second time Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. However this time it was not extasy that stopped her breathing. Her eyes popped open and every line upon her body went rigid. She stared wildly around the room. Jareth smiled warmly. He had waited so long for this moment but even as he held his breath in eager anticipation it registered that her eyes were not finding his smile. They just kept darting around the room, freightened. Jareth waved his hand in front of her eyes.
“Sarah” he said loudly.
Still her eyes had continued to search the room, the same paniced look upon her face.
Jareth shook his head to clear it. The image of his Sarah’s panicked face haunted him. It had taken him a long while to understand that Sarah had not wished he was there that night. She had only wished to feel his presence. However when she had felt him on her skin, when she had heard his voice, it scared her so badly that she had carefully guarded herself for a long time to come leaving Jareth in abject misery.
It had taken Jareth years of careful torturous observation before she let her guard slip.
‘It was all worth it’ Jareth thought to himself remembering the previous night. Now she couldn’t deny how good they were together. How natural it felt. How right.
A knock came from the door.
“Enter” Jareth called, in a good mood.
One of his maids came in and curtsied to Jareth. She was a young girl, perhaps 16. It was hard for him to tell with her long dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders. When she dropped her head in deference to him the long cascade all but hid her face. The maid’s hair was precisely the same color as his Sarah’s. In her hands she held a breakfast tray. Jareth waved his hand and she came toward the bed. He sat up and allowed her to place the tray across his lap. Jareth took the cover off his dish and picked up a fresh perfect plump strawberry. He stared at it and imagined the time when he would feed a strawberry exactly like this one to Sarah. How it would look resting on her lips as she bit into it. The juice running across her lips. Jareth smiled.
The maid said “You are in a good mood today sire.” As she stoked the fire.
Jareth continued to look at the strawberry. “I am.”
“Only one thing makes you smile like that sire. Things going well with your lady friend then?” The maid asked. She had stopped tending the fire.
“Yes” Jareth twirled the strawberry by it’s stem trying to decide if the strawberry would make Sarah’s skin more delicious or if her skin would make the strawberry more. But once again the girl interrupted his thoughts.
“That’s good sire. I sure am glad to hear that. I was wondering if there was something wrong with her sire. Not wanting someone like yourself, I mean.”
Annoyance prickled Jareth’s neck.
“She finally admit she loves you sire?”
Jareth’s vision flashed red. When it cleared he looked at his hand to find the strawberry crushed in his palm.
“Oh sire.” The girl cried as she rushed over to the bed. She began wipeing the remains of the strawberry out of his hand with the apron she had tied around her waist. “I’m so sorry sire. That was my fault running me mouth off when I shouldn’t. I’m ever so sorry sire. It’s just I can’t think why a woman would not love you. Why doesn’t she love you sire?”
Jareth’s hands began to shake. Her words rang in his ears ‘why doesn’t she love you?’ and all trace of the happiness that warmed him was gone. Ice pumped from his heart. Icy anger that drowned any other emotion. The anger pumped through him. His nerves were burning in cold fury. His eyes locked onto the girls. Her mouth halted mid sentence. The seconds stretched from one to the next while silence echoed in the room. Then after 2 breathes the maid lept from the side of the bed and began to run for the door. The maid’s sudden movement brought forth the predator in Jareth, the owl. In less than a breath he had thrown off the tray and lept from the bed. The girl screamed as he closed the distance between them. She screamed still louder as Jareth collided with the her, sandwiching her between his body and the door. Quick as a flash he turned the girl around to face him. She began beating at his chest with her arms. Her hands flailed as he grabbed each wrist and pinned them to her side. When she lost control of her limbs she began throwing her body from side to side, desperately trying to escape his clutches.
She struggled against him feeding his rage. Blood turned cold with anger filled his neglected cock, making it ache. Jareth felt that anger within him like a poison. A poison he must expel if he were to survive. Jareth shifted his grip on the girl and grabbed her around the waist. He threw her over his shoulder. The impact of his shoulder knocked the breath out of her momentairily but she soon began screaming again. Hitting his back and kicking at his chest.
Jareth threw her onto the bed so roughly she bounced four times before coming to rest. Tears were running down her face and she scooted away from him on the bed. She was mouthing the words “Please sire” over and over again but no sound came out. Just a low strangled kind of noise. Her fear fed Jareth’s rage.
He lunged at her. She threw herself sideways and tried to crawl away off the far end of the massive bed but Jareth grabbed her by the ankle. He pulled her backward until her ass was nestled into his crotch. She tried to crawl forward again but Jareth snaked his hand up, grabbed her by her hair and pushed her face down into the bed. Quick as thought Jareth ripped the girl’s skirts open with his spare hand. And with no preamble then slammed his rigid cock deep into the girls pussy.
The maid ceased to exisit. Jareth gave himself over to the anger and the fury that he kept so pent up within him for so long. All the anger he felt towards Sarah for spuring his love. All of the rejection. All of the bitterness. All the rage of being helpless in her grasp. He wanted it out of him. He threw his hips forward and pumped as he felt the poison consolidating within him. And with a rage so solid Jareth felt it would choke the life from him he felt the poison explode from him. He screamed as it pumped from him. He screamed until there was nothing left. He felt cleansed. Renewed. Relieved of it’s burdon.
There was a muffled cry into the bed. Jareth became aware that the maid had been the receiving end of his purge. He pulled himself free from her and then rolled over on the bed. He waved and hand and told her to leave. The girl crawled off the bed and without a word walked to the door, reaching behind her to pull her ripped dress shut. She turned and curtsied before she disappeared through the door.
Jareth didn’t think for a long while. He stared into nothingness and thought of nobody. He simply basked in the glow of his cleanse. Eventually though thoughts did penetrate his blissful silence. And the first was remorse. That girl had done nothing to him but try to comfort him. And what had he done? Raped her. Well he couldn’t apologize. That just wouldn’t be fitting. But he decided to make sure she was at least alright. If she needed medical attention he should make sure a Docglin would see her. It wouldn’t be the first time he had hurt someone when he had these rages.
Jareth twisted his hand and out of nothing he pulled a bubble which rested lightly upon his fingertips. Jareth gazed at the image in the bubble.
In the bubble the maid he had just mercilessly raped was sitting in a corridor. There were three other maids crowded around her. Jareth imposed his will on one of the other maids to make the girl ask “Are you hurt?”
Jareth’s surprise the maid lifted her head and smiled. She lifted a cigarette to her lips and took a deep drag. “Nah.” She said still smiling. “Though I tell you he’s a big boy, if you know what I mean. Could’ve put me eye out he could!”
The maids all giggled. One said “You shouldn’t get him angry you know! He could hurt you!”
The girl he had raped replied “Trust that he did hurt me a bit. But the good way, you know? Besides it’s worth it. I have to get him good and angry. It’s the only way he’ll look at me. Well that and…” and the girl reached up and pulled on her hair. To Jareth’s shock her long dark hair pulled free.
The girl he raped instantly looked 10 years older. Her dirty blonde hair emphasized the wrinkles in her face. She scratched her nails through her hair and said “He don’t like blondes like me. He likes em dark with long hair.”
The oldest of the maids said as she snactched the wig from the maid he had raped hands“Maybe I’ll borrow that from you sometime. I wouldn’t mind takeing a go at the Master.” She giggled.
The maid he had raped grabbed it back. “Get your own wig. But I tell you it’s dead easy. You just got to check his morning sheets. See if he hasn’t… you know… dirtied them. If he hasn’t he will be on edge and ready to go. Just say something about that tart of his not loving him and he’ll be inside you in a matter of seconds. Just make sure you scream a lot and make it look real or he won’t be interested.”
Jareth’s blood turned to ice. He threw the bubble and it crashed against the wall. It’s pieces changing to mist and dissolving.
“Used” he said to himself. “Sarah uses me to fulfill her desires while denying me mine and even my maids use me for their own amusement.”
Jareth pushed himself out of the bed and walked to the window. As he stood naked before the rising sun his kingdom stretched out endlessly before him. The rising sun creating dark shadows that filled his labrynth. Unbidden pride swelled within Jareth’s chest. He looked down at the village surrounding his castle. He saw his goblin’s already beginning their day, toiling for him. For him.
Standing there Jareth remembered something. He was not some smitten school boy to have his heart crushed beneath his sweetheart’s boot. He was not helpless. Not to her or to anyone. He was the King of the Goblins. He was Lord of the Labrynth. He would make her love him. He would bend her will to suit his if he must but he was done being her puppet. She would be his. She would love him. She had no other option.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Music Misconceptions
So if you know me you probably know that I love the Beatles. I love them. Even Ringo. Perhaps, especially Ringo. I’ve loved little Richard Starkey since he was still on his mama’s tit. That might be a bit misleading as I was born the year John was killed. I just say it to illustrate exactly how much I love John, Paul, George and Ringo. I was raised on their music. It is the foundation of my musical tastes.
September 19th was a big day for me this year. Yep it was the day of the Guitar Hero or Rock Band or Whateverthehellit’scalled hit the shelves. A day I eagerly anticipated. 10:00am came and I was at my movie store to rent it (I’m poor, sue me). I get it home and I ROCK OUT! I mean I am rocking so hard that I make up a back-story for myself as the big tittied 5th Beatle who not only rocked hard but often inspired the lads. Dear Prudence… that was me. Because I am quite prudent and a bit reclusive. So my delusion’s aside I’m tearing through the catalog when I come across a song that has long disturbed me. Yet I sat there and played along and felt like I allowed a crime to happen.
The song is “Hello, Goodbye” and to me it sounds like an endorsement of stalking. That song reads like a setup for rape. I know this shocks many of you. That was before the lads were into drugs, back when they still wore suits for f*ck sake. But don’t let the cheerful backbeat fool you. That is a dark ass song. COME ON! You say stop I say go go go! Oh No! You say goodbye, I say Hello? I don’t know why you say goodbye I say Hello. Is it just my imagination or can you hear those words coming out of some psycho’s mouth before they rape you, kill you and eat your body so that you can always be with them? Which makes me wonder, when cannibals poop is it a small funeral? Stay focused Lana. Maybe I’ve been forced to watch too much Battered Women TV (Lifetime) but that is all I can hear with that song.
And it doesn’t end just with the Beatles foray into the darker side of love. I see it all around. Songs that people jam or have jammed to not thinking of the darker message lurking beneath the pop beat. LL Cool J’s “Hey Lover” was huge when I was in school. The song is clearly about a man stalking a woman for a long time. It begins “I’ve been watching you from afar for as long as I can remember….This is more than a crush.” No kidding, it’s a felony! He knows where she goes and when she’s alone. He knows how much money her boyfriend gives her. He knows the boyfriend’s habits and vices. All the while keeping his “feelings inside, keep my dreams alive until the right time.” When is the “Right Time”? I’d like to think it is when she is broken up from her boyfriend but I have a feeling it has to do with a van a duct tape.
Not everything has a violent undertone though. No Doubt’s “Underneath it all” has a very strong message to settle. To me it sounds like she is trying to convince herself that in the end it will be worth it. Even if at times you are pretty unhappy. Even if at times it is “Really bad” at least he sees her. That is the mentality of a mentally abused person. If you can measure “really bad” as a constant time frame in your relationship then there is a problem even if you guess that it’s not that bad. That song makes me sad.
Other songs have power exchange implications. Again to the Beatles “It won’t be long”. If I were to make a musical about the journey of a submissive towards slavery then the scene just before the submissive signs their contract or accepts their collar I would put that song.
While other songs have a more optimistic message. I just love “Sexy Back”. It’s a beautiful declaration of the love that Justin Timberlake and Timberland share. They threw caution to the wind and told the world about their relationship, come what may! They unapologetically declared that what they share is sexy! I love it! Of course they fell victim to the pop culture machine. They produced a video dripping with women and even changed the lyrics while performing from “see the shackles baby I’m your slave. I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave” to “see these shackles baby you’re my slave. I’m going to whip you if you misbehave”. So sad. However their anthem of love and lust lives on and I take solace in that.
Then again this all might just be through the lens that I see the world.
September 19th was a big day for me this year. Yep it was the day of the Guitar Hero or Rock Band or Whateverthehellit’scalled hit the shelves. A day I eagerly anticipated. 10:00am came and I was at my movie store to rent it (I’m poor, sue me). I get it home and I ROCK OUT! I mean I am rocking so hard that I make up a back-story for myself as the big tittied 5th Beatle who not only rocked hard but often inspired the lads. Dear Prudence… that was me. Because I am quite prudent and a bit reclusive. So my delusion’s aside I’m tearing through the catalog when I come across a song that has long disturbed me. Yet I sat there and played along and felt like I allowed a crime to happen.
The song is “Hello, Goodbye” and to me it sounds like an endorsement of stalking. That song reads like a setup for rape. I know this shocks many of you. That was before the lads were into drugs, back when they still wore suits for f*ck sake. But don’t let the cheerful backbeat fool you. That is a dark ass song. COME ON! You say stop I say go go go! Oh No! You say goodbye, I say Hello? I don’t know why you say goodbye I say Hello. Is it just my imagination or can you hear those words coming out of some psycho’s mouth before they rape you, kill you and eat your body so that you can always be with them? Which makes me wonder, when cannibals poop is it a small funeral? Stay focused Lana. Maybe I’ve been forced to watch too much Battered Women TV (Lifetime) but that is all I can hear with that song.
And it doesn’t end just with the Beatles foray into the darker side of love. I see it all around. Songs that people jam or have jammed to not thinking of the darker message lurking beneath the pop beat. LL Cool J’s “Hey Lover” was huge when I was in school. The song is clearly about a man stalking a woman for a long time. It begins “I’ve been watching you from afar for as long as I can remember….This is more than a crush.” No kidding, it’s a felony! He knows where she goes and when she’s alone. He knows how much money her boyfriend gives her. He knows the boyfriend’s habits and vices. All the while keeping his “feelings inside, keep my dreams alive until the right time.” When is the “Right Time”? I’d like to think it is when she is broken up from her boyfriend but I have a feeling it has to do with a van a duct tape.
Not everything has a violent undertone though. No Doubt’s “Underneath it all” has a very strong message to settle. To me it sounds like she is trying to convince herself that in the end it will be worth it. Even if at times you are pretty unhappy. Even if at times it is “Really bad” at least he sees her. That is the mentality of a mentally abused person. If you can measure “really bad” as a constant time frame in your relationship then there is a problem even if you guess that it’s not that bad. That song makes me sad.
Other songs have power exchange implications. Again to the Beatles “It won’t be long”. If I were to make a musical about the journey of a submissive towards slavery then the scene just before the submissive signs their contract or accepts their collar I would put that song.
While other songs have a more optimistic message. I just love “Sexy Back”. It’s a beautiful declaration of the love that Justin Timberlake and Timberland share. They threw caution to the wind and told the world about their relationship, come what may! They unapologetically declared that what they share is sexy! I love it! Of course they fell victim to the pop culture machine. They produced a video dripping with women and even changed the lyrics while performing from “see the shackles baby I’m your slave. I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave” to “see these shackles baby you’re my slave. I’m going to whip you if you misbehave”. So sad. However their anthem of love and lust lives on and I take solace in that.
Then again this all might just be through the lens that I see the world.
Friday, November 27, 2009
F*ck You Maine!
So a bit ago Maine voted against Gay Marriage. I capitalize it because obviously it is a hot topic button for all those people who turned out to vote it down. Tens of thousands of straight people came out so they could put the gays back in their place. Because for a second the gay population of Maine had a good thing going. A legislatively passed recognition that they have the right to marry. But no more. All those thousands of straight people came out to put that shit down and thus restore the natural balance. Excuse me. I just choked on that last bit of sarcasm.
I find myself dismayed and utterly horrified. In this day of age. The end of 2009 for fucks sake. But I suppose it is my fault. I have been living in this magical world of my own creation. And I only populate my world with open, clear and fair minded people. So generally the people I associate with can speak articulately about their beliefs, whatever they are, but don’t impose their beliefs on me or others. The one thing I don’t tolerate in my life is hate. Specifically hatred in the form of ignorance. IE. Homophobia. When homophobia and religion mix you get the worst type of ignorance and hate.
Ask your typical salad bar Christian what they have against gay marriage and you will probably get the typical salad bar Christian response. I hate faggots, yes I do! For the Bible tells me to! At which point my blood temperature rises about 15 degrees. See unlike most of the drones who spit out that ignorant bilge, I have read more than a pamphlet about what the Bible says on the matter. I’ve gone to the source. Yes, it does say man shall not lay with man as he lays with a woman (which btw if you are gay you can not lay with a man as you would a woman. They have different parts!) followed immediately by the equally damning truth that if you have ever eaten shellfish you will rot in hell for all eternally right next to the gay guys. I know more than a few “good Christians” who like to hit the lunch special at Red Lobster. They like most people salad bar their Christianity. I’ll take some of this eternal peace and a good helping of righteous condemnation but go ahead and keep all that stuff I don’t want like the sacrifices and anything that makes me feel bad about myself. That drives me absolutely crazy.
However to hate a person and deny them the rights that every other citizen in this country enjoys because they are Gay and then hide in the supposedly unassailable Bible bunker just makes me want to take anyone who hides behind that flimsy excuse and punch them in the face. I don’t give a shit what your beliefs are. Beliefs have nothing to do with it. We are discussing the RIGHT to marry. Not the beliefs of marriage or the privilege to marry. The right. Has there ever been a vote actually giving straight people the right to marry? Well straight white people that is. No. Because the idea is ridiculous. Noone should get to decide wehter or not I can decide to live the rest of my life with another person. And the concept that gay people need more concideration of the matter is demeaning not only to those who prostalatize this crap but also to all of us who have to deal with it. Why does it need concideration at all? WHY? Are they US citizens? Do they pay their taxes? If you can answer yes to both of those questions you are guaranted the rights of every other tax paying US citizen. The idea that such a fundaemental right being denied anyone is unconscionable. If any other group in this country were denied the right to marry based on being a minority if would not be acceptable. But if it’s Gay, it’s OK!
I believe that if you are being denied your rights and being treated as sub-citizen then all those taxes need to go into an escow account and not be paid to the government. If a landlord refused to give you what they are contracted to then you have the right to take your rent and put it into an escrow account until the problems are fixed. There has to be a way to do that on a larger level. And if there isn’t then a path needs to be blazed. Money is the only thing anyone in Washington understands. So hit them where it hurts. Sue them. I know it won’t work but fuck I want to do something.
And since I am simply ranting I will also get this off my ample chest. I believe homophobia stems not from any religious belief at all. It stems from desire. I believe that those who are most afraid of gays are fighting their own desire. I saw a study where they took 2 groups of 10 men. The first group had no issue with gays or gay marriage. The second group were adamantly homophobic and absolutely against gay marriage. Both groups explicitly denied any attraction to men. They then took each man and put him in a chair in a room with a tv. He had to watch man on man porn while he was videotaped. Each man also had an instrument that measured girth around their penis. So if at any point they were aroused it would register. Every man who had no issue with gays registered little to no arousal during the gay porn. And every man who was devoutly homophobic had been hard most of the time. That pretty much says it all for me. We fight that which we fear within ourselves the most.
If you haven’t figured it out I support gay rights. Not because my best friend if gay. Not because he and his husband are my daughters god parents. Not because I am omnisexual (I like em all). I will fight for those reasons. I support gay rights because I support equal rights to all citizen of this country. It’s a slippery slope when we start denying rights to groups of people and who knows where it will end. Because it never ends with just one group.
I find myself dismayed and utterly horrified. In this day of age. The end of 2009 for fucks sake. But I suppose it is my fault. I have been living in this magical world of my own creation. And I only populate my world with open, clear and fair minded people. So generally the people I associate with can speak articulately about their beliefs, whatever they are, but don’t impose their beliefs on me or others. The one thing I don’t tolerate in my life is hate. Specifically hatred in the form of ignorance. IE. Homophobia. When homophobia and religion mix you get the worst type of ignorance and hate.
Ask your typical salad bar Christian what they have against gay marriage and you will probably get the typical salad bar Christian response. I hate faggots, yes I do! For the Bible tells me to! At which point my blood temperature rises about 15 degrees. See unlike most of the drones who spit out that ignorant bilge, I have read more than a pamphlet about what the Bible says on the matter. I’ve gone to the source. Yes, it does say man shall not lay with man as he lays with a woman (which btw if you are gay you can not lay with a man as you would a woman. They have different parts!) followed immediately by the equally damning truth that if you have ever eaten shellfish you will rot in hell for all eternally right next to the gay guys. I know more than a few “good Christians” who like to hit the lunch special at Red Lobster. They like most people salad bar their Christianity. I’ll take some of this eternal peace and a good helping of righteous condemnation but go ahead and keep all that stuff I don’t want like the sacrifices and anything that makes me feel bad about myself. That drives me absolutely crazy.
However to hate a person and deny them the rights that every other citizen in this country enjoys because they are Gay and then hide in the supposedly unassailable Bible bunker just makes me want to take anyone who hides behind that flimsy excuse and punch them in the face. I don’t give a shit what your beliefs are. Beliefs have nothing to do with it. We are discussing the RIGHT to marry. Not the beliefs of marriage or the privilege to marry. The right. Has there ever been a vote actually giving straight people the right to marry? Well straight white people that is. No. Because the idea is ridiculous. Noone should get to decide wehter or not I can decide to live the rest of my life with another person. And the concept that gay people need more concideration of the matter is demeaning not only to those who prostalatize this crap but also to all of us who have to deal with it. Why does it need concideration at all? WHY? Are they US citizens? Do they pay their taxes? If you can answer yes to both of those questions you are guaranted the rights of every other tax paying US citizen. The idea that such a fundaemental right being denied anyone is unconscionable. If any other group in this country were denied the right to marry based on being a minority if would not be acceptable. But if it’s Gay, it’s OK!
I believe that if you are being denied your rights and being treated as sub-citizen then all those taxes need to go into an escow account and not be paid to the government. If a landlord refused to give you what they are contracted to then you have the right to take your rent and put it into an escrow account until the problems are fixed. There has to be a way to do that on a larger level. And if there isn’t then a path needs to be blazed. Money is the only thing anyone in Washington understands. So hit them where it hurts. Sue them. I know it won’t work but fuck I want to do something.
And since I am simply ranting I will also get this off my ample chest. I believe homophobia stems not from any religious belief at all. It stems from desire. I believe that those who are most afraid of gays are fighting their own desire. I saw a study where they took 2 groups of 10 men. The first group had no issue with gays or gay marriage. The second group were adamantly homophobic and absolutely against gay marriage. Both groups explicitly denied any attraction to men. They then took each man and put him in a chair in a room with a tv. He had to watch man on man porn while he was videotaped. Each man also had an instrument that measured girth around their penis. So if at any point they were aroused it would register. Every man who had no issue with gays registered little to no arousal during the gay porn. And every man who was devoutly homophobic had been hard most of the time. That pretty much says it all for me. We fight that which we fear within ourselves the most.
If you haven’t figured it out I support gay rights. Not because my best friend if gay. Not because he and his husband are my daughters god parents. Not because I am omnisexual (I like em all). I will fight for those reasons. I support gay rights because I support equal rights to all citizen of this country. It’s a slippery slope when we start denying rights to groups of people and who knows where it will end. Because it never ends with just one group.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
A word on family Happy Thanksgiving!
I want to talk for a moment about family. I suppose this is relevant being as how in a few days time we are all supposed to take a day and give thanks for that which we are most grateful for. Mainly: your family. But what is a “family”? I think most of the populace is stuck in the Mad Men mentality of a family consisting of a husband, wife and 2.5 kids. Or at least what you should aspire for. And if you don’t measure up to this standard then somehow your family is less valid. You’ve fallen short. Now I am going to hit you with 3 scenarios that illustrate that.
I will start with me. Why? Because it’s my blog! Now I am one of those lucky statistics. I’m white with noble Viking heritage. My husband is also white. So is our one child. (Funny how that works.) Now we made a conscious choice to only have the one kid. We have a firm rule “If you can’t feed them, don’t breed them.” However ever since our daughter turned a year I have been harassed as to when I’m going to get knocked up again. When I say never I usually receive first a look of shock followed by a disappointed frown. At first I just thought it was people’s desire to see a baby. I mean, they are cute as fuck. But the older my kid has gotten the more pronounced the disappointment has become. To the point that I have been asked several times how I could “do that” to my child. As if allowing my daughter to grow up an only child was doing her not only a disservice but possibly I could also be harming her. To that I say a big fuck you. 2 fingers. I don’t know how people who have 2 or 3 kids to it. When you get up into 4 or 5 I begin hoping that you have a job security. 6 or higher begs the question, Are you Catholic or stupid? But these people are revered as heroes, put on TV and give tips about how the rest of us mortal can be better parents. Please. I know what those shows are even if no one wants to admit it. Side shows. But I digress. My point is that even though I hit all the checkpoints. Man + woman, check. White, check. Kid, check. I still don’t measure up because I only have the one.
Now going from the light end of the scale to the middle of the road I have a friend who is married with no kids. She is afforded even less respect for her family because there are no kids involved. Man and woman, check. Both white, check. Kids, oh… no. They made a choice not to have kids as it could seriously endanger her life should she try. Many family members don’t give their marriage the same respect that any other married couple in the family receives. She is regarded as a type of stand in until the day she conceives or her husband finds a baby mama. Her family validity is suspect and fails to measure up outright.
On the heavy side of the scale is another white couple. (To clarify the scale is heavy, not the couple. They are svelte Adonis’s.) 2 men. I don’t really have to say any more that that, do I? Their family isn’t valid practically anywhere. They have made the choice not to have a child by either hiring a bun oven or ordering away for one ready made. Yet, they receive pressure to adopt as if that will somehow validate their relationship. Personally I would be terrified to adopt if I were gay in this country. When even the basics like the recognition of their right to marry continues to be denied them. This absolutely fundamental civil right is carelessly stripped of them even when it is legislatively won (FUCK YOU MAINE!). If they can not even be legally married what kind of legal recourse do they have if they did want to adopt? If, all gods forbid, Sarah Palin gets elected p..p…p… No I can’t say it. But you know what I mean. Anyway if she does then I don’t find it that hard to imagine bills being debated on a federal level to take save the poor babies from their 2 mommies or daddies. I’m terrified and for all intents and purposes it doesn’t effect me. I see children being ripped from their parent’s arms and brought to temporary holding camps in armories or gymnasiums. Rows of cots and cribs and hundreds of screaming confused children terrified of the people who paid babysitters to watch their own kids so they could come down and catalog the gay people’s children and test them for homosexual tendencies. Meanwhile gay parents clutch cell phones and scream at lawyers while some are ripped from their homes and are subjected to what the newspapers will describe as a hate crime. I don’t mean to get morbid but I’m not sure if I am that far off the base. I did go off on a tangent though. My point remains the same. They receive no recognition on basically any level of their family.
I want to take a moment and point out that I do not equate myself or my situation with either of m friends. We each have different dynamics and my legally recognized marriage in no way compares to the uphill battle that my gay friends are facing to get their marriage legal recognition. I have never had to fight for my right to love someone and they are forced to do that every day. But my point is that no matter the legal status or child status or anything. Regardless of what anyone else might think, NOTHING changes the fact that each instance there is a family. Complete and whole with nothing wrong with it. Even if statistically speaking none of us are a “real” family.
At this time of year with Thanksgiving and the other swarm of religious holidays that follow there is significant pressure to conform to the “traditional family dynamic”. I think that there is no traditional family. Any attempt to define what a family is will ultimately be wrong. Each family is different from their neighbor. Blood is not family. Marriage does not make family. Children are not the missing ingredient for family. Only one thing makes a family. Love. If there is love there is family. I have many people in my family. Several of them are related to me. The vast majority I have spent a life time finding. I cherish each and every one of them and love them with all of my heart. I will take time this thanksgiving to think of them and know that even though we are parted we are never separate.
Everyone else can suck it.
I will start with me. Why? Because it’s my blog! Now I am one of those lucky statistics. I’m white with noble Viking heritage. My husband is also white. So is our one child. (Funny how that works.) Now we made a conscious choice to only have the one kid. We have a firm rule “If you can’t feed them, don’t breed them.” However ever since our daughter turned a year I have been harassed as to when I’m going to get knocked up again. When I say never I usually receive first a look of shock followed by a disappointed frown. At first I just thought it was people’s desire to see a baby. I mean, they are cute as fuck. But the older my kid has gotten the more pronounced the disappointment has become. To the point that I have been asked several times how I could “do that” to my child. As if allowing my daughter to grow up an only child was doing her not only a disservice but possibly I could also be harming her. To that I say a big fuck you. 2 fingers. I don’t know how people who have 2 or 3 kids to it. When you get up into 4 or 5 I begin hoping that you have a job security. 6 or higher begs the question, Are you Catholic or stupid? But these people are revered as heroes, put on TV and give tips about how the rest of us mortal can be better parents. Please. I know what those shows are even if no one wants to admit it. Side shows. But I digress. My point is that even though I hit all the checkpoints. Man + woman, check. White, check. Kid, check. I still don’t measure up because I only have the one.
Now going from the light end of the scale to the middle of the road I have a friend who is married with no kids. She is afforded even less respect for her family because there are no kids involved. Man and woman, check. Both white, check. Kids, oh… no. They made a choice not to have kids as it could seriously endanger her life should she try. Many family members don’t give their marriage the same respect that any other married couple in the family receives. She is regarded as a type of stand in until the day she conceives or her husband finds a baby mama. Her family validity is suspect and fails to measure up outright.
On the heavy side of the scale is another white couple. (To clarify the scale is heavy, not the couple. They are svelte Adonis’s.) 2 men. I don’t really have to say any more that that, do I? Their family isn’t valid practically anywhere. They have made the choice not to have a child by either hiring a bun oven or ordering away for one ready made. Yet, they receive pressure to adopt as if that will somehow validate their relationship. Personally I would be terrified to adopt if I were gay in this country. When even the basics like the recognition of their right to marry continues to be denied them. This absolutely fundamental civil right is carelessly stripped of them even when it is legislatively won (FUCK YOU MAINE!). If they can not even be legally married what kind of legal recourse do they have if they did want to adopt? If, all gods forbid, Sarah Palin gets elected p..p…p… No I can’t say it. But you know what I mean. Anyway if she does then I don’t find it that hard to imagine bills being debated on a federal level to take save the poor babies from their 2 mommies or daddies. I’m terrified and for all intents and purposes it doesn’t effect me. I see children being ripped from their parent’s arms and brought to temporary holding camps in armories or gymnasiums. Rows of cots and cribs and hundreds of screaming confused children terrified of the people who paid babysitters to watch their own kids so they could come down and catalog the gay people’s children and test them for homosexual tendencies. Meanwhile gay parents clutch cell phones and scream at lawyers while some are ripped from their homes and are subjected to what the newspapers will describe as a hate crime. I don’t mean to get morbid but I’m not sure if I am that far off the base. I did go off on a tangent though. My point remains the same. They receive no recognition on basically any level of their family.
I want to take a moment and point out that I do not equate myself or my situation with either of m friends. We each have different dynamics and my legally recognized marriage in no way compares to the uphill battle that my gay friends are facing to get their marriage legal recognition. I have never had to fight for my right to love someone and they are forced to do that every day. But my point is that no matter the legal status or child status or anything. Regardless of what anyone else might think, NOTHING changes the fact that each instance there is a family. Complete and whole with nothing wrong with it. Even if statistically speaking none of us are a “real” family.
At this time of year with Thanksgiving and the other swarm of religious holidays that follow there is significant pressure to conform to the “traditional family dynamic”. I think that there is no traditional family. Any attempt to define what a family is will ultimately be wrong. Each family is different from their neighbor. Blood is not family. Marriage does not make family. Children are not the missing ingredient for family. Only one thing makes a family. Love. If there is love there is family. I have many people in my family. Several of them are related to me. The vast majority I have spent a life time finding. I cherish each and every one of them and love them with all of my heart. I will take time this thanksgiving to think of them and know that even though we are parted we are never separate.
Everyone else can suck it.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I heart c*ck! NSFW!!!!
Reason 1746 why it is good to enjoy sucking dick.
Today I sent my husband into the attic on a quest. I needed to find this one book that I have a clear memory of putting in a tote and having him take up to the attic. So my good little boy scurried on up the precarious collapsible stairs and balanced a top the plywood so he wouldn’t fall through the ceiling. In this ungraceful position he proceeded to look through the 5 totes we have in our attic. After 10 minutes he calls down to me that there are no books in any totes. I, of course, don’t believe him. So he checks again. Nope. Still no books. Which makes me slightly peeved. I KNOW I put a whole bunch in a tote. He calmly calls down that there aren’t any in them now. However to be sure he lugs all the totes down and brings them to me. I search all through them. Low and behold, nothing. Not a single book, let alone the mass of books I remember putting away. So now I’m pissed and start into the diatribe that anyone who has had the world rearranged behind their back would launch into. Where could it be? Where could it have gone? Yet for all my bitterness no books were to be found. Have you ever been so upset/confused you just stare at a wall. Not really looking at it, but still staring at it? Well I do that. This felt like one of those moments. So I glare at the wall to show it who’s boss. What do I see, sitting sideways on the dresser in front of me? You guessed it. The god damned book I was looking for. Not 10 feet from me, all on it’s own. Just sitting there, virtually giving me the finger. Fuck you too Stephenie Meyers!
But what does that have to do with enjoying a big cock in your mouth? I’m glad you asked. See I had to eat a little crow once I discovered the not-so-secret location of the book in question. I always sincerely apologize when I am wrong. If I have been a bitch and turned out to be wrong then I apologize most profusely. So I’m telling my husband how sorry I am for making him go up into the attic, then lug the totes down, then take them back up when it was in front of me the whole time. To my surprise he smiles. I ask why he’s smiling. He says “Well I figure with as good as you suck my dick I can’t really get upset with you for anything.”
And that is reason 1746 why it is good to enjoy sucking a dick. If you enjoy sucking a dick you invest more time to doing it. You get into it. The more you suck that dick the more turned on you are, and who doesn’t want to be as turned on as possible? Me, I love sucking dick, specifically, my husband’s. And because I love sucking his dick, I can now get away with anything!!!! There must be a way for me to use this to take over the world! With adequate suction the world shall be mine!!! Mwahaaahaaahaaa!!!!!
Today I sent my husband into the attic on a quest. I needed to find this one book that I have a clear memory of putting in a tote and having him take up to the attic. So my good little boy scurried on up the precarious collapsible stairs and balanced a top the plywood so he wouldn’t fall through the ceiling. In this ungraceful position he proceeded to look through the 5 totes we have in our attic. After 10 minutes he calls down to me that there are no books in any totes. I, of course, don’t believe him. So he checks again. Nope. Still no books. Which makes me slightly peeved. I KNOW I put a whole bunch in a tote. He calmly calls down that there aren’t any in them now. However to be sure he lugs all the totes down and brings them to me. I search all through them. Low and behold, nothing. Not a single book, let alone the mass of books I remember putting away. So now I’m pissed and start into the diatribe that anyone who has had the world rearranged behind their back would launch into. Where could it be? Where could it have gone? Yet for all my bitterness no books were to be found. Have you ever been so upset/confused you just stare at a wall. Not really looking at it, but still staring at it? Well I do that. This felt like one of those moments. So I glare at the wall to show it who’s boss. What do I see, sitting sideways on the dresser in front of me? You guessed it. The god damned book I was looking for. Not 10 feet from me, all on it’s own. Just sitting there, virtually giving me the finger. Fuck you too Stephenie Meyers!
But what does that have to do with enjoying a big cock in your mouth? I’m glad you asked. See I had to eat a little crow once I discovered the not-so-secret location of the book in question. I always sincerely apologize when I am wrong. If I have been a bitch and turned out to be wrong then I apologize most profusely. So I’m telling my husband how sorry I am for making him go up into the attic, then lug the totes down, then take them back up when it was in front of me the whole time. To my surprise he smiles. I ask why he’s smiling. He says “Well I figure with as good as you suck my dick I can’t really get upset with you for anything.”
And that is reason 1746 why it is good to enjoy sucking a dick. If you enjoy sucking a dick you invest more time to doing it. You get into it. The more you suck that dick the more turned on you are, and who doesn’t want to be as turned on as possible? Me, I love sucking dick, specifically, my husband’s. And because I love sucking his dick, I can now get away with anything!!!! There must be a way for me to use this to take over the world! With adequate suction the world shall be mine!!! Mwahaaahaaahaaa!!!!!
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