indigotouch

And I will have to get up early.  I am dreaming of here now.  My body awakens to the thoughts of her.  The possibilities set me aflame.  She is divine to me, irresistible in every way.  I admire her, respect her and seek to devour her at the same time.  Delicious and delightful the taste of her haunts me.  If only to be helpless before her and feel the weight of her atop me, unable to look away, unable to resist not really wanting to I struggle until her labia touches my lips.  I am lost in her now.  My tongue moves on its own, hungry ravenous now.  I drink her in, every drop.  Lips, tongue ever moving.  Her moans of pleasure a divine symphony to me.  Her wetness fuels my passion.  My thirst insatiable now, she feeds, I devour, until at last she explodes, giving me what I want and more.  I lust after every drop, sucking her clitoris and labia, unwilling to waste any of her precious nectar.  How can she not know that I am unequivocally, unerringly and undeniably hers.  I wonder what she is dreaming of…

I was asked to teach again today.  It had been some time, but the martial arts classes that I started and left to my students seemed to miss something.  We began with an hour of Tai Chi and Chi Gong in the morning.  The morning air favors the older members of the class and the breeze in the park with its many oaks complemented the exercise well.  The second class was the Tong Gung Fu that I had learned from an outlaw in my teens and twenties.  We began reviewing basics.  There were a few new students and it was clear they did not understand the Martial side of the art.  Martial has come to mean many things, but to the Tong who taught me it was still used as a means of settling disputes, both small and large.  They had a Darwinist approach to the art and I had only added to that, calling my school the way of the Beast.   If the techniques worked, you live to pass them on.  If they didn’t… problems solved.  

One of the young men spoke out of turn asking to be taught something outside of my plan.  My senior student turned and glared at him.  I moved my eyes and he was folding from the kick that flashed to and from his belly.  I told him to stand and I would teach him.  I directed him to hit me.  He threw a waste of motion my way, which I batted away without acknowledgement.  I looked into his eyes.  “Hit me.” I said feeling the beast rise within me.   His intention was there, I dropped low stepping back as I raised my left hand in an upward block, catching him by the wrist.  The first two knuckles of my right hand landing precisely on the nerve behind the seratus magnus above his floating ribs.  His diaphragm froze as I stepped between us twisting his arm across my shoulders, my right hand forming claws around his throat.  I stopped the technique, holding my position and applying pressure until I heard him whimper.  “Do you understand me?”  I asked.  

He cried out, “yes.” 

“Do you know I can snap your arm like a twig from here?”

 Again he whimpered, “yes.”  

I released his wrist and allowed the beast to unmask.  His body flew around to the front of me like a rag doll as I brought my hands together almost ignoring the fact that his throat was still in one of them.  I growled, he wept.  “welcome to the way of the beast.” I said feeling every vertebra in his neck release and crack under the force of the beasts claws.  I let him fall to the ground, sobbing openly now.  “There is no shame here.”  I said.  “Get up when you are ready.” 

My older students looked on hungry for the next movement.  Each of them ready to  leave their human half behind and embrace the power of the beast in all its fury.   

She lay before me bound, helpless.  Her skin of alabaster and bronze, for now.  We begin the journey inward.  From time immortal those who gave themselves to the fire, the alter and the whip by choice found freedom.  Our passion gains momentum, our relationship becomes sacred now, blessed because through it we will find ourselves.  She will come to trust and accept the truth of my tongue, because she has known the truth of my lash, always driving her forward, never beyond her desire.  Perfect.  Her eyes meet mine and there is understanding, sacred as a prayer, she desires disaster, longing to meet mayhem on the field of her body.  There will be a battle, we will share scars, but it is we who stand together, stand together striking at the chains of fear and repression until.  In leading her there, I become the follower and then… bound before me, she is free.