Nightmares are also dreams Part 18-Pel

Our friend leads Sara out of the bathroom. His movements are mechanical. Just one more piece in machinery. A cog spinning and giving the result desired.

A fundamental difference in experience and approach. I tend more to the psychological. Into the knowing and intuitive leaps that drive experience forward. The shift from warm and loving to harsh. To complete control. And back to sweet kisses. Back to silly gestures and a kiss to the palm.

Watching him cuff Sara back down and settle her without a caress or lingering touch. Something I’ve never been capable of. Control can be taken too far. Can stifle the spontaneous action that makes one’s heart sing.

He packs up his gear and heads out with a nod. Silence and sensory deprivation are the order of the day.

I hear a murmured conversation at the door and go to look…

Tara is back and she’s covered in grime and blood.
I rush over and take her in my arms.

I ask, “What happened?”
She replies, her voice strong with the soft edge of fatigue, “We found them. Jen is torturing them…

I was torturing them…I thought I needed to. To make me feel safe. To make it better.”

She pulls back, searching my eyes for the loathing she thinks she deserves.

I say, “It never feels the way you think it will. Mostly, when they are dead…All you will feel is safe.”

Smiling lopsidedly, I say, “You had a long day. Do you want to rest?”

She nods.

“Do you want to stay with me or do you want Mr Fox?”

Softly, she whispers, “Both.”

I smile and say, “Well, I am playing with Sara right now but if you can sit very quietly you can watch. Do you think you can sit quietly?”

“If I have Mr Fox, I can,” she smiles.

“Okay. Go cleanup. Then get Mr Fox and come sit in your chair. Remember. Be very quiet,” I command.

Tara walks away, shedding her heels and padding softly into the guest bathroom.

I suppose it’s a good thing we got through the electricity element already. I shudder to think what would have happened if she walked in. As it is, I’ll need to switch a bit and go more sensual. Maybe build up to the harsher things.

Well, whichever. Sara is still getting caned today. That is the midway point and she squirms so much when I do it.

I wonder if Tara will want to try.

Song of the Day

I’ve been down with the flu for the past week and am still shaking it.  This song has nothing to do with that.  But it does succinctly say how I feel about my loves. And how I will say well…You’re mine like it says everything.  Cause to me it does. Mine.

We are never more complicated than when we are open to love

It is easy to say that love is a choice and not a feeling. Because we want things to be one thing or another. We want uncomplicated and simple solutions. But this leads us to believe that if we no longer feel love that we should just choose to be with the person because we are choosing love. And that is fucking dangerous.

Yes, love should be a conscious choice. Don’t allow your feelings to rule but when your feelings of love are gone, it should be a flag to examine why.

Because love is a choice but the kind of choice it is, is to see. To see all that a person is and choose to love them. In the best way, it is to allow one’s feelings to develop from seeing who they are and each day realizing why you love them.

Now. That shit is easy to say. And some days it will be all you can do not to be super fucking annoyed by everything that they do, but the feeling of love will pull you through. And on the obverse side, if all you have is the feeling of love without the reasons that you love them….observe that. Because if you feel love but there is no quality in them that makes clear why, or if what you once loved has worn away and has been replaced by fear, uncertainty, and doubt…well that’s dangerous…

What is wanting in the surity of her savage kiss

Some thoughts violate pleasures
Some boil and seethe looking for fertile ground
Waiting to grow flowers which bloom blossoms heavy with blood
Dark ponders
Desire wars with decency
Losing and winning
Who can tell when the lash falls
Split grin
All the horror of imagination
Given freedom
By a Whispered
Yes
By the knowledge
Her only limit
How far I’m willing to go

When memories thought inviolate slip away beyond reach

Feeling broken for no particular reason
No glaring signal saying this is the red flag
This is where the healing will begin
Instead just hurting
Just a bag full of empty
Spilling out over symptoms
The endless seeking of distractions
Anything to not think except in those moments between cease and sleep
Where all that was held away comes crashing down through paper walls which held it at bay
Thin constructs fooling myself that this is a normal life and these are normal activities
Fundamentally seeking but burned out from the search
Looking for a reprieve but places aren’t safety
Just defensible rooms
People have ever been my succor
Holding and taking care of those I love heals me
Keeps me going to the point where you say you want to see my darkness
But become Mired in light
Because the darkness retreats when my love is allowed expression
Wrong to say it’s gone but it retreats to lurk and wait in ambush
Too tired to even think about suicide
Instead yearning for sex, something passive, to be done to me while I curl and cry
Anything just to feel more than empty
I’ve been seconds from the ledge, one steps from jumping and still this all consumption of emotions is worse
This endless expanse of nothing
Stretched borders making for the treeline
Drowning in the blood of mourning
Lost without her Yes or Sir
Masters have demons too
Ours just seem like controlled because they are control
Perfection is a lost art
Artists lost in the false storms of embrace
A yes away from hell or salvation
One more chance
One more piece broken
One more piece of jagged glass
Still capable of cutting me free