The Queen – Chapter 5 – The Passion of the Queen

Urgently she grabbed my hand, I was still in shock at having handled myself so competently. She knew what she could make men do, her little mischievous smile told me that she was well aware of her skill. Taking me to a door, barely recognizable from years of graffiti sprayed on it, blending it in with the dark sticky walls of the alley, she pushed it open with a nudge and we entered another world alien from that of the putrid alley, but still as foreboding, mysterious. The lights were dim, but gave an ambiance that said, pleasure. She turned, letting her jacket slide off slowly, showing first one shoulder then the other. I leaned against the wall, this was not a show for her patrons, this was animal desire controlling and forcing her to do what she wanted. My eyes caught the dull red of a dragon inked on the back of her neck, winding its way around her body, drawing my attention downward, as her coat slid off more. A soft thud as it fell to the ground revealing the rest of the dragon, continuing on its journey past her firm sculptured stomach and down her thigh. She slid in close to me, her soft hands pressing against my mouth, quelling my surprise, increasing my desire. She whispered with her Queen voice, captivating my whole being with her seductive charm, explaining that I’d seen her dance many nights, but this night, this night I would feel her dance. Closing my eyes with her hands, she directed me on a journey of curves and motion around her body, every part of her soft, yet firm through years of dancing in her throne room. Skin on skin, perspiration peeking up from our heated exchange. I can hear my breathing, feel her moving, hearing her soft sighs, increasing as her movements became a frenzy of passion. I can hear her breathing, deeper and fuller, feeling her soft wet kisses given at intervals that teased and called a fiery lust from deep inside of me. My Queen, tonight you have made me a King. After all, this is why I work my mundane, back breaking job, so I might protect her and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside this Queen’s castle.

Related Posts: The Queen, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,  Part 11,, Part 12, Part 13

Also Published in: Broowaha

The Queen – Chapter 5 – The Passion of the Queen

Urgently she grabbed my hand, I was still in shock at having handled myself so competently. She knew what she could make men do, her little mischievous smile told me that she was well aware of her skill. Taking me to a door, barely recognizable from years of graffiti sprayed on it, blending it in with the dark sticky walls of the alley, she pushed it open with a nudge and we entered another world alien from that of the putrid alley, but still as foreboding, mysterious. The lights were dim, but gave an ambiance that said, pleasure. She turned, letting her jacket slide off slowly, showing first one shoulder then the other. I leaned against the wall, this was not a show for her patrons, this was animal desire controlling and forcing her to do what she wanted. My eyes caught the dull red of a dragon inked on the back of her neck, winding its way around her body, drawing my attention downward, as her coat slid off more. A soft thud as it fell to the ground revealing the rest of the dragon, continuing on its journey past her firm sculptured stomach and down her thigh. She slid in close to me, her soft hands pressing against my mouth, quelling my surprise, increasing my desire. She whispered with her Queen voice, captivating my whole being with her seductive charm, explaining that I’d seen her dance many nights, but this night, this night I would feel her dance. Closing my eyes with her hands, she directed me on a journey of curves and motion around her body, every part of her soft, yet firm through years of dancing in her throne room. Skin on skin, perspiration peeking up from our heated exchange. I can hear my breathing, feel her moving, hearing her soft sighs, increasing as her movements became a frenzy of passion. I can hear her breathing, deeper and fuller, feeling her soft wet kisses given at intervals that teased and called a fiery lust from deep inside of me. My Queen, tonight you have made me a King. After all, this is why I work my mundane, back breaking job, so I might protect her and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside this Queen’s castle.

Related Posts: The Queen, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,  Part 11,, Part 12, Part 13

Also Published in: Broowaha

The Queen, End Game

The Queen, End Game has been rescinded in lieu of another ending forthcoming. I will leave the ending below for those who “need closure”, but will continue to let the story evolve for those who can stand the ride. Peace.

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We shuffled together down the alley, working our way toward a halo of light, a haven of safety, at least in my mind. Leading me this way may have saved our lives, my Queen was wise. I glanced down at her, my life, my love. She stopped me, shock in her eyes, I followed her gaze down her body, the chilled wind blowing her coat to the side enough for me to see her soft curves, and, a dark stain. Panicking I began searching her, praying I hadn’t failed in my task, her hands, a shiny dark and bright red. Despite her objections, I looked at her for the source. Pushing me back, she just pointed, words far from her now. I looked down and saw that the warrior was skilled at last. As I noticed the smooth cut in my shirt, just above the belt, I felt the pain, creeping in waves, sickening, alternating dull and sharp twinges. Quickly, I gathered my shirt up, pressing it in the wound, and then, dropped. Grabbing my stomach and blinking back the pain, I began to breath in short bursts, breathing deep hurt like hell. I didn’t see him at first, but then seeing his concerned face revealed by the light of our refuge, I realized that my Queen had arranged to meet someone. I started going in and out of reality. I see my Queen, so beautiful, even under all the commotion she maintained control, then I closed my eyes, opening them in slowly shorter intervals, the lights blurring, becoming parts of a lucid dream. I hear her voice, I am here my queen, are you safe? Her safety was still, even though in spurts, part of my reality. Voices are muffled, lights blurring, feelings numb and distant, I close my eyes one last time. This is why I work my mundane, back breaking job, so I might give my life for her, and escape from the listless world that was mine, outside this Queen’s castle. 

 

So Your Confused About Me – A friends disturbing confession

 “You have a perfect right to consign us all to hell, rector, but you must allow us the choice of how we get there.Angus Wilson, The Pan Book of Horror Stories

judgementalrocks

A friend of mine shared this with me:


OK, yes I am a christian. I was born again spirit filled when I was 14. I spent the next 16 years of my life in ministry. I witnessed on the street. I led a bible study in high school, even sang worship songs in the halls with my guitar. I went to Christian College to get a degree to be a missionary. I was a youth pastor, bible teacher, worship leader, and whatever else I could do to talk about Jesus. I argued with pastors, teachers, other religions. I used my intellect to force many to concede to my truths. HOWEVER, there are two worlds inside me. That world is real, but, I have a horribly stained, damaged and wild side to me that has a rage that is incomparable, a lust unquenchable, and desire to please you that will make me compromise my own identity and security. So, I can see your confused, I help you, not just to help you, but because I feel like I HAVE to. You suspect somethings up, your right. If your a woman, I will likely lust after you. I will show you love, whether or not you want it and if I’m rejected then I’ll go off in a rage and take back all I gave you. OK, so, yes, I’m not perfect. Yes, I’m strange. Yes, I’m likely to flip on a dime if you hurt me and tear your head off. I’m likely to flip on dime if you don’t hurt me and tear your head off. You see I live in extremes. I’m either extremely in love with you, or I extremely hate you and wish you dead. I’m going all the way to help you or leave you lying there. My fault, I am changing though. Here is where my Christianity helps me. You think it a great offense when I say “FUCK YOU” or get pissed and beat someone’s ass or show signs of sexual desire and you mumble how unchristian I am. What you don’t realize is that I really want to hang your body on a meat hook and strangle you with your own intestines. No, really. Do you see how christian I am now by just saying “FUCK YOU”? Don’t look at the little “wrongs” I do, realize that in my nature of extremes, the fact that its a little wrong is actually a good thing, for both of us. Moderation in all things, that is my goal. Sorry if I offend you with my duality, my dichotomy as I like to refer it. But I do care, I do believe, and I am changing for the better. So if you are confused about me, you have a right to be so. So put that in your judgmental pipe and smoke it.