Monday, May 26, 2008


There's a spider web by the entrance to the garden shed. It forces me to duck my head and twist my shoulder each time I go in and and out, but inevitably I end up striking it. The fine gossamer threads tangles in my hair, tickling my cheek or sticking to my shirt. Hollowed out shells of various insects crackle and pop like an entomology lesson gone bad as I try to pull myself from the sticky tangles. Each time I break the threads, stubbornness and resolve drives her to weave it larger and larger, spinning relentlessly until it expands more and more.
The web has weathered rain and wind. She has worked to build it during cold nights and warm days, patiently labouring away to unravel her yarn. It glints in the daylight, shimmers seductively in the setting sun, drops of dew glisten like gems in the morning. Toiling for survival, it is her entire world stretched before her. The fine sensors on her feet tuned explicitly to every minute vibration of each fine strand of silk, she waits patiently for her prey to tangle itself before feeding.

She snared me much the same way. She laid out her designs and waited for that moment when I wandered in. It was futile to resist. Every night I fall asleep to the rhythm of her breathing and the fine hairs tickling my nose. Every morning I stir awake to her soft whispers off "I love you" and she will scream each time she sees a spider crawl along the wall or scuttle across the ceiling.

She hates spiders.

Friday, May 23, 2008


It is a farce to call any being virtuous whose virtues do not result from the exercise of it's own reason.
~Mary Shelley

Thursday, May 22, 2008

the garden, Chapter I, part I

She had slept well and alone last night, the storm that howled outside all night only served to sedate her mood. Waking up, she tip-toed down the stairs and into the still dark kitchen. She shivered. It felt as though the patio doors had been left wide open. And they were. How careless of me, she thought as she crossed the kitchen floor. Dressed in only her man's shirt and a short robe, her bare feet pitter-pattered on the cold tiles as she moved to close the doors. The drapes and the floor were soaked from the rain. She grumbled to herself once again about her carelessness slamming the door closed. Turning back, she started. One the counter she noticed one red rose with a white envelope. How did she miss it when she walked in! Apprehension gripped her. Curiosity prevailed and she reached for the card:

"...roses are red, violets are blue. Look behind you..."

But she never got the chance. As the strong hand came around her throat, she barely saw the shifting black form flow out from the shadows behind the drapes where she had just stood. Her scream was quelled in her throat as she struggled violently against the attack. To no avail. She was now being dragged outside to the large back yard. Her bare heels dug into the soft sod gouging it open like lashed flesh. Her hands flayed out helplessly groping for something or someone to hold onto but they kept coming up empty. She felt rain drops on her body, on her face, on her bare breasts and she realized that her robe and the shirt was gone from her body. Striped naked she squealed as she was flung face down onto the muddy lawn. Her arms were pulled back. She felt coarse rope burn her wrists. With a vicious yank, her feet were pulled back and she felt the rope bind her ankles. Her back arched as red hot pain screamed through her spine. Her mouth filled with the pungent earthy taste of grass and mud as she tried to take a trembling breath. Her body shook uncontrollably as fear clamped it's cold wet fingers around her heart and bile stung the back of her throat. The rain continued to fall, pelting her without mercy. The ropes cut into her skin, the pain almost unbearable. Mud matted her hair, coated her face & smeared her body. With her failing will, she raised her face to the mud splattered boots inches from her face,

"...why", she whimpered, "wh-o are you? whuh...why a-are you doing this t-to me?"

A sinister almost demonic laugh was her answer as she felt a weight bare down on her forcing the air from her lungs. He was kneeling on her back! He raked his nails down her back. Two angry trails of red streaked across her alabaster back bringing another cry from her.

"Puh-puh-lease", she implored.

He stood up and she heard the jangle of his belt buckle. She twisted her head to look up at him and she finally got a glimpse of her tormentor. His face was hidden behind a hood. His breath steamed out like phantasms in the early morning light. He had his rigid cock in his hand which he stroked lightly as he gazed down on her dirty form at his feet. He prodded her ribs with his dirty boot rather like poking at a cowering dog. He seemed to enjoy having her this way. He grunted. The rain came down in stinging torrents as she cried out again louder this time but even in her anguish she knew no one could hear her. Her nearest neighbor was almost two kilometres away. Slowly he sank to his knees in front of her. His silence scared her even more than if he had spoken. He reached out and lifted her head from the muddied puddle by her hair and locked his eyes with hers. He could not tell if she was crying, the rain obscuring her tears, running tracks down her cheeks. Suddenly and without warning, he tugged her head towards him and shoved her lips over the tip of his cock. She gagged and screamed again, but this time her scream was snuffed by his cock penetrated her mouth and down her throat. Again and again he lunged forward pulling her head into him. But in the midst of the ferocious assault, as this dark strangers hard member raped her mouth and her spittle drooled out to mix with her tears running down her chin, there was something familiar. Something about his taste, his size, his smell, the way his fingers coiled about her hair. Motions brought memories gurgling to the surface just like the bubbles popping at the corners of her mouth.

And the stranger growled, low and deep. And in the timbre of that primal sound it carried the designs of what was going to be an excellent start to a day of sadistic daydreams that were now to be a reality........

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

mea culpa

Memories flashed in a split moment. Ghosts from the past crawled from the recesses of my mind in an instant of tears. I remember vividly when I first set foot upon this land. It was the third complete re-adjustment of my life within three years. It was April. It was cold, colder than I had ever been before. The sky was pregnant with dark clouds, the roads coated a morbid grey from the salt and early snow melt. Looking at the scenery rush past the window I realized how far from home I was. There was no turning back. The road ahead stretched out into uncertainty and adventure. Even amongst the four others in the car I was still alone in this foreign land lulled by thrum of the tires.
Nothing was familiar or remotely routine. I was lost in a city of millions. Surrounded by new faces, smells and sights, unfamiliar with the way things worked, I absorbed the world around me like a sponge. Which way did the streets run, what colour the currency? different culture, different weather. Everything and everyone seemed alien and cold and hospitable at the same time. Insecurity and fear ruled my waking hours, crowded my dreams at night. Like a frightened animal caught in a trap.
I remember, even to this day how alone, abandoned and afraid I used to feel as voices were raised and words flew through the air like arrows to sting the heart with poisoned barbs. Desperation weighted me down, Hopelessness suffocated me. Over time the wounds festered into resentment and hate. Poisoned barbs turned into maces and an union was felled forever.

Yesterday I looked into a mirror. It was her face. 20 years were stripped away in an instant and I saw the utter desolation and fear reflected back. I saw the abandonment contort her features. The sadness wrenched her face like jagged edges of torn photographs and most of all I heard in her voice the consummate weight of a life of heavy sorrows come crashing down. And I hated myself for that. I made a promise once. But with the harshness of a few thoughtless words and raised voices I destroyed that promise. I was supposed to ease her burdens, lift her spirits, place a smile on her lips and repair her spirit. Instead, due to irresponsible desire to have things my way, I hurt the one that I love. I crushed her spirit with heedless actions. I ripped away her beautiful smile and drew tears from her sparkling eyes. Tears that extinguished the bright flame that burned so steadily.
I do not know what caused me to become so angry with her. All I wanted was to do make her happy. And yet unthinkingly emotions were twisted into a grotesque mask that spewed angry words. In one weak moment, I relinquished control to the demon that has always lurked within. It was only for a fleeting instant, but it was an instant too long and damage was done before it could be caged again. I have much work to do, to repair the broken chains that were in place to bind it - repair her broken spirit. I may not have a past-it was left behind, buried in the horrors of a malignant war. But I have a future with her. I will glue together the fine porcelain that was shattered, smooth over the cracks and build my past, today, with her.

I Love You Lea, My Precious, My First.

I am sorry

but I remain forever

Your One

Friday, May 9, 2008


It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.
~Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)

Is it really a dream? will I roll over and suddenly the sequences will change? gone will be her caress, her warmth, her giggles, her voice, her eyes. I shudder to even think off it. Icy tendrils coil around my heart, even as these words scribble across the page. I never thought I could live with another person again. I don't think I could live without her. Yes, I would be the first to recognize the cliché. As banal as it may sound, I cannot imagine a day without her touch. She called for me and I answered. This is what she claims. On this second swing around the sun since that fateful comment, how many orbits has she made around my heart I wonder. How long did our lives circle each other like distant galaxies, lonely amongst a billion souls before words such as this caused a perpetual motion of inescapable inevitability. Impact was not an option. When two hearts collide new life is born.

A new journey has begun. There are no maps, no rules, no guides. We have cast off on sails scarred from previous experiences, the fabric as bright as a mosaic, each shade, each matrix a remnant of our memories that has stitched together the canvas. Only a compass of love and devotion points the way from this moment onwards. I the Captain, she the mate. Let these seas be less tempestuous, the winds strong and sure. Sirens sing your songs, this mariner will never sway.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

salacious sunday

But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me;
my glory, and the lifter up of my head

I cried unto the LORD with my voice,
and He heard me out of His holy hill.
~Psalms III: 3,4

Thursday, May 1, 2008

the garden [prelude]

HIS FIRST bows her head instantly, her breasts rising and falling with each deep breath. Nipples erect in fear and anticipation. Water beads down her alabaster skin for she knows not what dark thoughts are flowing through her Masters mind, like the rivulets of rain making tracks in the sodden soil beneath her bare feet. She glances upwards to gaze at the pet tied to the base of the tree, beneath it's gnarled crooked limbs reaching out to the heavy grey skies.
"Do you like what you see my love?" He stands behind her, one arm across her waist as his hand gently strokes her belly, gliding like a raft on the water beading down from her bare breasts.

"I thought you would. Do you wish to play my love?"

Nudging her from behind, he pushes her towards the pet. As they both approach the tree, she notices that the pet is crying softly, her tears mingling with the rain drops, black mascara running down her cheeks, tainting the edges of her lips.
"Kiss her My Precious. It appears that this pet requires some comfort"
Without hesitation, His First leans forward towards the pet. Her face is obscured by her long matted hair, which has stretched and twirled about her breasts like tangled roots. Her Master steps aside, moving the pets knotted tresses away from her face. She is pretty in an unassuming way, a dainty heart-shaped face with a slightly upturned nose between dark eyes. There is a shadow of defiance within the brown depths and her full lips quiver almost imperceptibly.
The two women kiss. His First flicks the tip of her tongue out to lick away the pearls of moisture gathered like dew along the corner of the pets mouth. The black lines smudge even more and run down the chin of the pet. With a small whimper the she tries to turn her face away. But with an impish grin His First grinds her lips back against the pets mouth, driving her tongue between her lips, forcing them open. Their breasts touch, nipples grazing against erect nipples. Soft bare flesh pressed harshly against bare flesh.

Beside them Her Master growls, low and deep...