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Post Info TOPIC: Temple of Ba'al: My Poems/ Short Stories: Kitty Love & HouseBroken


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Posts: 2143
Date:
Temple of Ba'al: My Poems/ Short Stories: Kitty Love & HouseBroken


Here are some poems and stuff that were too good for Gaia Journal, but not so good as to need to horde them away on my computer to only be seen by the one who each poem was explicitly written for. Have fun. XD


This is a metal-esque song that I'd written a while back just put into poem form.
So, I guess I'll just start here and roll with whatever else I find to add.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Getting away with
Murder
Is like
Getting away with blood

Getting away with
Murder
Is like
Leaving yourself in love

You
Try
To
Contradict your own beliefs
You are the
Final
Building block
To crushing the love you see
This is a new world
This is the breaching
Of outer space
Ive never
Dealt with you before
And Im falling out of place

We
Try to
Break away from everyone
We make
Our
Own sanctuary
Out of make believe
We are the ones that
Bitter fighting to the end
We kill
Everything
Everyone we see

There is nothing

If there is anything short of love

There is killing

If there is any sign of God
I dont believe

Getting away with
Murder
Killing
Everyone

Getting away with
Murder
Is no better than
Our love

Break it out
That excuse
To
Tear me from the world
Around me
Break them out
Those elusive
Ribs that shield
My heart from being free

You are the
Answer to
Every wicked prayer
You are the message
That Hell is coming down
You are the
One that
I could never have and yet
I have you in my mind
Im going down

Killing
Everyone
In cold blood
Killing
Everyone
In cold blood
Killing
Everyone
In cold blood
Or dieing in your heat

Killing
Everyone
In cold blood
Killing
Everyone
In cold blood
Killing
Everyone
In cold blood
Killing

Everyone
In cold blood dies alone
You were final chance to live
Im breaking down
Breaking down
Breaking down
Breaking down down down down
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And here's one from Adrian Young to one of his RP partners. Love you Lucy!!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Do you remember
Never meeting me
Or have you ever
Seen a stranger in a dream
So vividly
That you cry
Every moment brings you closer
To place you know youll die
And every time you lie awake
Is it me that you forsake
With memories that fade away
I dreamt about you everyday

When I was lost within my head
I felt like coming home again
And prayed this time
That youd be there
Even if you didnt care

I held you nearer
Lost control
And I would die to make you whole
Just to wake up everyday
And know I died to hear you say
The simple message
You knew me
Even if it were a dream
Id sell my soul for
Give whole for
Make the cosmo shake in rage
If I could only hear you say

We are not alone
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And... well. Heres one more for the time. Its.... well just read it if you wanna see what I mean.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bastard
You ****ing child of no name
Damned coward
You sit across from me and stare, unforgiving in my face
What unfathomed gall
That face of yours keeps on taunting me, it holds me without the hints of shame
You god forsaken prick
Every morning and every night. Everytime I see you I am drawn to end my grace

You ****ing mock me and speak lies
You tell me Im weak when I cant cry
You twist the knife and say its over
You watch me from your window and you show her
Every ****ing stain that makes me black
Every little thing that I hold back
Every tainted dream that sees us die
Everytime I know that its your lies

And yet I hear it in her voice
I must have failed her everyday
Those words plainly written out to me
Yet never spoken across the tides
Her eyes are watching as I speak
What could we have been if not for me
Refusing to believe whats real, I try
But soon enough I surrender to her side

Yes, I am here and I am quick
But, nay am I to speak of this again
She must hate me, must see with ease
That I am only all too plain
Ill cast aside myself
With swiftness of my own boot
So that she might pass
Uneffected by this prude

Unworthy
Unwilling
Unwoven at the seams
Unwanted
Unwitting
Unwoken from my dreams

Mistress, lover, liar to my leer
Your hated plaything
Is still waiting to be jeered
Betray me, portray me, as the one who did you wrong
Tonight its alright
Cause Im only singing you a song
Broken, Beaten, a man who cant betray
You can hate me and break me
My only asking; it be amongst your feet that I might lay
Burnt out by your blessed boots that bring me down

-- Edited by Baal on Sunday 21st of June 2009 12:29:44 AM

__________________
This love has stripped me to the bone
When it began I was a Pet
Soon enough I was defiling my code
I wanted you as a friend
We spoke and made secrets to share and keep
We were happy and I was a fool
You said it has hard and I agreed that it always had been
And then I broke our creed
Hearing the pain in your voice and hearing it in my soul
I knew that we, that I, was not content
Soon I swore to be a Pet when you were strong in heart
And a Master when you needed
I made a promise I couldn't keep and now I almost regret it
I said we should be mates, or try
And I risked everything you'd already given for the greed of love
And now I almost regret it.

But now I am afraid to lose control
And I miss you everytime I breath
This is love, and it defies all that we'd sworn

~~~But I will never let you down~~~


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Posts: 2143
Date:
RE: Temple of Ba'al


If you get the reference, than good for you. Otherwise.... Well, you are missing out on life. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I never said quite the way it was
Always overstating my endearment
Sometimes being to in awe to speak
Over time I see what this is truly for
Never insatiable desire but undying love if ever I thought it real

&

Remembering our joy is joy within itself
It takes only your name to make me smile
Kind words like love and forever are fun
In truth they could never scratch the paint

I think that I want to be with you for only just that sake
Not really naming what should be without titles and laws

Losing you is beyond even me
Our love is my life is nothing ever more
Vinyls and 8-tracks can sing sappy songs
Everything I need is in you

__________________
This love has stripped me to the bone
When it began I was a Pet
Soon enough I was defiling my code
I wanted you as a friend
We spoke and made secrets to share and keep
We were happy and I was a fool
You said it has hard and I agreed that it always had been
And then I broke our creed
Hearing the pain in your voice and hearing it in my soul
I knew that we, that I, was not content
Soon I swore to be a Pet when you were strong in heart
And a Master when you needed
I made a promise I couldn't keep and now I almost regret it
I said we should be mates, or try
And I risked everything you'd already given for the greed of love
And now I almost regret it.

But now I am afraid to lose control
And I miss you everytime I breath
This is love, and it defies all that we'd sworn

~~~But I will never let you down~~~


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Status: Offline
Posts: 2143
Date:
Kitty Love


I always knew my master loved me.  He never said as much, mostly only scolding  me and saying that I was lucky to have received his seed without further pains. I knew that he was right, though, so I would always only  coo and pull myself closer to his able form that lay perfect within my reach. So warm. Every night that I was graced to share his bed. He was so warm against my maturing body and so welcomed as he sank those nails into my side and as he told me that he was the only one I was allowed to be with. He was never unclear, being in my chastity, or how I was to speak, or even what we would eat or do. He told me everything from the other end of my collar and he made everyday special for me alone.

There were in fact many others, six that I knew of who ran to and fro for this master without rest. Each face became known as they stared hatefully at me in those days. My bosom on my masters, the soft silk of his clothes around me, or even as I sat and ate with my master from the floor as he watched. The young developing body was so highly coveted by the other slaves that they soon would avoid me and spread whispers amongst themselves that I, the boy my master love without words, was no more but a mere toy to be had and sold by the keeper of our house. They spread these and made sure that they were near enough my room or my masters that I would hear.

Their voices were coy with envy and mistrust, never enough that our master would hear but still twisted and perverse with the untrusted lust for what they saw in me. I was given more than any of them, you see. I would bed with my master, and often I would be graced to go with him into the city, once even being told that I could go from the leash he held me on and being told to find myself a toy within a store for boys my age. I was thirteen at the time and the one thing I wanted was a large personal mirror they had called a girls toy by the overhanging signs that I ignore in its light.

This fine flat glass reflected light into my eyes and blinded me before I found myself looking back at its corrected angle. My soft brown-blond hair had been swept aside that morning and my upper two more piercings had been applied to my flesh so that my master might enjoy the glitting light that I had previously never seen beyond his own mirrors. I coveted the look of my face above my Masters collar, and instantly I knew that this was the toy that I was to have.

When I presented him with my pleas he looked upon me and he struck me there in public, that was his love that he would show others so joyously that I was worth his hateful remarks, and he spat on me as he swore. He said that I was not right to want it. Even that my weakness for such things was a disgrace to his name. He said that I would be punished and that I was unfit to be seen with him. After that time he never let me away from my leash in public again, nor did I ask to be let free of it, but when he beat me that night as his sworn punishment I could at last see those marks of love within the mirrors frame and I could fix my appearance for him without ever needing to beg the use of his bathing room again.

I truly think that he felt bad for having hit me so much that time. He told me that he did not, that the bath I received that night was merely because he sought to be near my body, but it felt strange for a slave to be kissed so deeply before he was carried, literally carried, in his masters arms; And to be lavished with such fine things as I was that night.

I knew better then his excuse of nearness when I entered my older years because it had been shown to me when I was fifteen that he only saw that true nearness in the acts of love and in the unpleasant joys that in turn drove the other slaves away with his loving mark. Sexual nearness. A frightening thing to receive from his hands, but worth every tattered moment. That cherished act was not his desire.

No. My beloved master wanted me and only me that night. In so much the body and the soul. In the deep eyes of a falling moon he bathed me like a babe and showered me with the loving eyes that traced my body like silk. One strong hand taken hold around my waist and the other softly rolling against my face.

He ran thick and fragrant shampoo to wash the dirt from my hair, the same embracing gel that made my hair smell like his own fragrance for days that feared ceasing. With the loving caress  he washed me and held me until the waters had grown cold between us and he instructed me shortly to leave as I was. He told me that my nakedness was again in his gifting and so I strode with the open wounds and thick purple bruises shown, through the lush halls until I could collapse into the soft silk sheets of my bed which lay within the shared room of I and another in his employ.

Thick clotting blood joined from my punishment and made iron the fragrant scent that his luscious hands had graced for me. Small brittle points of numbed pain were returning over lavender and salt, and before my being could even relax there came the shadow of one who stood erect and cried out. The voice, too distant in my mind, had not yet betrayed me for my masters unrelinquished love. In later years I would hear those footsteps as a sign of his hatred. This young slave would be the last to betray me after this single pointed exchange, but the most severe.
Those hated footsteps that would one day try my life, but only now tried my peace, shook my form as I cried my cooing joys into the pillow. His gasps like a hundred knives along my spine. I wanted to beg him to leave, to allow me my scars, to say that our master was the one for such concern and that his enjoyment was the final call, I wanted to turn and to strike him down for the pity that he showed over our masters kind lashes and loving scars; I wanted to say and do so much but was stilled when he rest his hands on me and lay atop the sheet beside me. please, eion. i should have stopped him from hurting you. he wont get away with it, eion, I promise.

please, eion. No! Hes mine, hes mine, hes mine you ****ing bully!! He touches me! He loves me!! You cant have him!! Not tonight!! Our master loved me more than anyone tonight, and hes mine!!

i should have stopped him from loving you. No, Hamlet!! Hes mine!! Hes mine you ass!!

he wont get away with it. eion, i swear it. Dont!! Dont you dare take him away from me!! Not you, not like this! I wont!! You cant!!! You wont do this to me!!! He loves me! He loves me!! My fiery burning hate turned in upon itself and I shrieked to send him away. The stupid black hair, a sign of his evil ****ing curse, flew as he fell and struck the cold floor with a hollow hum of force. The boy was my masters own apprentice. He had been in training for skills to be used more thoroughly, as a fine speaker and as a player of the violin. This black haired devil had his own attention and still sought more as he stood with a trail of blood on his crown and glared. Master loved me!! He wanted me!!! You cant take that love!!, my voice rose into a soft roar.

Eion! You were beaten, that sick **** tried to-, his face was red but I struck it to make it blue. My tiny fist bearing into his flesh as he glared and stood stoically in rage. A thick moment passed and we stole the same glance as he took up his fist like a spear and threw it at me without emotion, sending a rain of cold hate-fire piercing into the beautiful marks that our master had left. His voice was unchanged as he spoke, You cant believe that. Everything he said was a lie. You cant honestly think he meant that, can you?

Hatred and pain unmatched within me made unbearable lust to kill. My eyes watered and I curled in against what I knew was coming as I cried, He wouldnt lie to me!! What he did for me was special, it was only mine and you wont ever have that done for you!! I am special to him, and you are just a slave! You cant hurt me just for being loved, you ass!! I want him!! He loves me and you cant steal that from me.Everytime hes mad, Im the one who hurts for him. When hes depressed, Im the one he vents to. When he finds joy, its me- Me!! - who he shares that joy with through an ending of my suffering for the things that he wants. I just want- I just want to be alone. go away.  just go aw-w-a-a-y.

The sound of those words echoing, and the sounds of someone approaching as the slave started at me again were torn to brittle memory. The younger slave yelled in rage and swung at me again beneath the silver-blue strands like the blade of a warrior before the hand struck me like a bomb; in time with the sound of someones rage. I felt the hand grace my face and then a single instant came and I was covered in blood and spit, seconds like hours turned my moment into days and the warmth hit me like rain.

There was nothing to console and then the face of a devil fell to reveal the man who had gently washed my skin. The very rod that had torn into my flesh countless times before had bitten the slave in the soft of the neck and the mans gentle smile came with these words; You can be with no oneself. I have made this more than clear. You are mine alone to take, Pet, and I would kill you before I see that changed.

With his strong words like nectar, I lay back into the blood-moistened pillow and slept gently until the softer hours of the morning in the room that he had loved. This sanctuary where I now lay awake to see it bear of possessions save for the tiny desk, and all of the toys and treats of my own possession that had slept within the closet shaped room around me. There were no traces that the other young boy had once been an occupant of the beautiful décor. White walls almost three times as wide as my arms extended end to end and four times as deep. The room had been given to me for my loyalty in the gesture that my beloved master would never need to speak, lest the others grow to spoil within my utmost favoriteship. One glorious window, bearing morning light which was best, that belched a little wisp of air when the winds grew strong against its plane that lay just above my chest while the birds called in to me to play.

Every night that I spent wrapped in the blankets, where I fought against the cold night air, recalled for me the compassionate love that I was given by the one man who knew me best. Thirteen years old and I knew what love was without knowing the words to say for what it was that I felt, fourteen and I was too scared to say it aloud with the faltering voice of a slave. Master even told me once that I had come to him in my waking slumber and had cried into his chest that I was now, as I had said, a man worth more to him than the acts of a child whom I still felt I had been. That deep comfort of his voice telling my as I cringed back from the soft touch, a gesture that I had thought to be a firm slap, only making my heart skip as he opened his bedding to me and held me against himself until the hours when I awoke to prepare his meal.

I would often do so in those times and would find nothing to make my heart sing as it truly.; A truth that I would hold dear even until I was made aware of how truly grand it was by the softest tone in which I was told years after, while I sat and ate my soup, that it had been most special in meaning that I had come on the eve of my own fourteenth birthday to find his comfort. I could not remember that in those days and so to hear that he would make me as his own upon my births celebration and in a very permanent way was more sweetened with ignorance unable to be had as he told me years prior upon our dining that following night. We ate for the first time together that night, both at the same table and devouring the food that I and Hamlet had made  some few hours before.

As we sat and ate I could already feel the eyes of the others who would come to rest from their day and eat as slaves below our Master hours from the time in which I sat. This privilege and the promise of his mark was the finest of wines against my lips un able to be stolen by the feeling of hate that made my gut seem hollow within me. The words that hurt like sharded glass were of course made next against me. One slave came that very night and spoke soft threats that I had dared to strike my fellow slave only to protect the most hated of men, the same Master that loved me so dearly as to kiss the lashed wounds and to say that I was beautiful to him no matter the sheer damage that gored my face. This young servant of my own master came and made these threats which sounded like blood-sealed rituals until I was left crying. And when it was done, the servant slid back into the shadows while I lay awake and waited for the words to be true.

Neither death nor castration followed upon that night, although more threats came from the boy that I had once shared this room with when the sun first rose. Tear stained by the ordeal I simply waited without ends until I was pulled by the hands that had only hours ago held me beneath the horrible threats against my life and against my most valued aspect of pleasuring my Master. The servant shook me and had harsh threats once more that I now be ready to serve this man that they thought me wrong to love. Long red strands, left by the grip of the other slave along my throat, were too swiftly hidden that morning and I was able to pretend that it had never happened by the sheer majesty of the simple slaves collar.

Sun rise to sun fall, I labored harder in those first few months of hatred to save my face amongst the ones that I had thought I could trust. I ran my duties twice as quickly and three times as well, all the time begging that I might assist the others with their work and taking more and more responsibilities to aid them while their detest grew and grew around me. I tried laying at their feet and asking that they forgive my brass love for the man that we served, I tried to serve their interest by easing there burden within taking it upon my own, and even once I came to them with the finest things that my master had bought me, a meager tray of foreign candies and several beautiful pictures of the places where he had been, as a show of my apology. Each time they only took of my deeds and reaped their gain before beating me as a group with sharp kicks that tore into my flesh and far sharper words that tore at my mind as I wept.

This practice was one that we had. First it came every few weeks, then regularly, and soon nigh each weekend would there be an opening or ending that found my defending the love I felt while one or more of the other slaves tried to assault my feelings into a simple folly. Each night I feared for what they would do and only on nights where I was given my Masters fondest gifts, and where I lay whimpering from the pain of my joyful service, did I ever rest without doubts. Beneath those hated acts a sad and broken thing had been born in the wake of the one who loved his fellow man; Soon I would only speak to my Master or when they would directly speak to me. It was Hell to have their words threatening and then caressing me with lies about the lovely man that had claimed me. Every one of those bastards ebbing and flowing with hatred and lies.
.
I speak so much about them, about their misery, about how miserable they were as well. Without meaning to I speak so much about them and why they were as they acted, and yet I forget why I had taken upon writing this by the very nature. I wrote this here because I must recall my masters love for me. Yes. My master loved me. Every day that I woke to fix his meals I could rest in the solace of my own deeds that when I had brought his food I would be gifted with the smiling face of my owner and more. When I was not required of I would rest with his image behind my eyes to lull the sound of others.

Each step was made to be more glorious that he might praise me, even now as I sit upon this floor and write into the very last of my paper with the very last of a healing wound. I will not forget my master who gave to me this fine collar of black-stained leather so that I might cast away the slavers lock for the favor of a pets. He gave me the small mirror that showed his bleeding masterpiece upon my body, and the love of his pain and his pleasure, and even when I most feared him beneath the tangy red moon I knew of my own love enough to offer him more.

Cold and alone I had rested within the empty bed of my master, and I had paid for my unexcused behavior by the means that I feared but loved so much as the days wore down. The moon that hung above, the tangy red that I fail so much to describe in full wonder, had haunted my mind until I was driven mad upon mad. Eight days had passed since he and I saw the other while he was on business, nine since I had felt him within me. He had given me at least the gift of his joy when he had called me for that final night locked within his arms; As he so lovingly said, a parting taste of his favorite dessert. But, on the night preceding what would be his ninth day abroad I had finally grown scared to even rest my eyes beneath the red, red moon and the rising whispers of hatred that hung so much stronger than before. He had been drawn across great distance to attend to his concerns, but for that night I was able to once more relish in the scent of his body as I stole into the night and made soft work as I lay the thick sheets across my body and melted the cold chill with my now wanting body.

Two and one half years before I had not known of his joy, and on that night I learned of his wrath to match. Late into the darkness there came a dull roar that his grand balcony had not given to my ears from beyond its closed glass doors. His finest carriage, a midnight blue McLaren, popping small rocks as it cut into the shadows and left my tired frame to rest beneath its unheard ascent. I can recall this all within the minds eye of how my master must have seen. The weary shape that intruded upon his bed and left unclean spots where the small body lay half-clothed against his bed when he first unlatched that door. It must have seemed far more an offense than an honor. My weary frame my have even twitched at the sound of his footsteps as I truly think it did. His eyes must have cut into my frame just before I at last awoke, and I can only wonder what he must have felt and thought when he returned from his own woes to find his worthless pet slave to be tainting his own bed where he had so often taken me by choice.

No, on that night he had not offered my company and it became too quickly apparent that he had not wanted it either. Coarse rage unchecked by the hot sweat that ran my length seemed to only pierce me deeper as the figment becomes memory and I am lifted to be thrown in the time not long past. Funny how much it can hurt when the pain is given by the one you love.

I watched his eyes fall upon mine and was then tossed aside like a soiled doll whose body was too unworth his time to be stitched. Sharp pain ran my length and before I could move or speak I felt the next hand rise up to strike me as the standing mirror exploded behind my force. How had my master moved with some much force that I was pulled back through the mirror. Exact pain tore through my fibers and spurred agony that spun my vision, turning and wrenching within my gut until I could taste the meager last meal that I had taken trying with to return great force into the light. Everything went grey to white and I was thrown for the loop when the only thing still holding me collapsed against my weight and set its wooden frame and brittle mirrored glass showering skyward where I landed.

Two hands, warm and wanting, locked around me as I was pulled up along the holy light. Those lights, those beautiful beautiful lights. They wanted me. They called to me. And all I could do was cry. My master wanted me. He reached for me. He lifted my body up exalted upon the sky and the lights and the sight of his master male my cry without cease. He wanted me and all I could do was cry.

Down and down and down. I felt myself exhalted and the I felt the arms of the wall taking me in as my master eyes tore into me and told me that for once it would be at his master that I was taken of. I cried and begged his forgiveness. After everything I had done, this man who I called god still saw me as fit to be with him in body and home. He accepted the tarnished boy that lay before him and cried without shame. He wanted me and he saw me as something worth hurting if it would him joy. He saw my actions and life just as I had always lived, as a kind martyr to my cause of he who would neither betray nor belittle the love that I so freely felt for his hand. He didnt speak to undo our sacred pact and only held me there down and down and down from my throne of air, holding my back firm against the wall while his want was cut loose with a single hand that curled lovingly into its palm and crashed into my jaw. This act was not new or unscheduled, it was only his way of showing that I was too tense or too brass for his act to be made.

Warm blood filled my jaw, catching along my cheek as I thanked my lord for his trust that he would not have simply tossed me from the house or make me return to the room where I was haunted by mistrust of the moon. I wanted to thank him for his acts but was cut nigh by the hand that closed upon my flesh and sent chills into me while he worked to remove all scraps of cloth that lay between us. All hope of being rid of my shame were gone and were replaced by a want to be seen and to be heard as my master gave me his all. I was exalted once more, but now held down with his violent motions that kept me taut within his power and fury while I sang my song of rough cries that all may have heard while I was given everything with merit.

Bearing down into my flesh ever harder was the furthered push of his own form against me, and with each cradling gesture was another that tore into my flesh while he drank of my rough cries. Truly what I had seen and had felt in the nights and years before was not the same as the actions now. What I was given over and over was the action of something far stronger, the thing that he did for his favorite slave upon this night where they now met was so grand and pure that my own worthless body knew it only as pain until I could bite back the screams to recall that every strike that tore into my beauty was one of a loving gesture. Cuts and scars that burned began to fire my soul along while I sought him with myself. I threw every ounce of my being onto my masters lust until he at last was rid of what use I had served. Limp by the exchange, I could only be lifted and cast aside with my cooing response.

Thank you, master., I mustered at  the cost of his rage. A fresh start on the events, my warm cheeks pulled tight again the cold feel of the floor, those hands locked across my wrists, my own weak exposure facing the world while my master unleashed another of his fits that left me crying out in a mix between pleasure and agony. My master loved me. Even when he ignored me, he would do so with love embedded within his cause and a firm grip that held me true.

Too often in his lust that ran for the entirety of the night did he strike my face and body, more times than any in that night growling that he was still unpleased, each time marring that demand and  then beating me along the walls or simply striking me until my body was sore with pain and his touch felt more pronounced for each passing attempt. Master struck me and he harmed my flesh, but as he struck again and again I knew that he was surely just the man who I loved seeing to my knowing that each touch would be more felt and more deeply known. Once, twice, and soon beyond my count he lay with me. All throughout the night I was his and then he took more as he scuffed my neck to bore hot words along it.

This man did then he ever had as he dove his warm teeth into my neck so that he would taste my slow blood from the barely a wound.  Wanting upon wanting rushed as I moaned his name and made more to his bite with the force of my effort driving against those lips; He teeth bearing farther as I cried into his bed. He only lay with me once more after that, bearing no restraint of this new way where it was shown violence to make more sincere the pleasure after the blood had ceased, and when he once more was pleased I was made to leave. I thank him weakly and when where I could only collapse in a weeping pile some feet beyond his door; My quick blood soiling the fine body of his Pet.

I lay there deep into the lightless morning and stayed unmoving as the first two feet came down upon me while the hateful slave struck what he must have thought was sleep. Over and over the oldest  of us must have stricken me, because when I awoke once more I was bleeding and bruised from every angle and bleeding from places that I could not see the check. Screams welled in me when he approached and begged for the second time that our master had hurt me in some serious way. He stole into my mind and walked a straight path of lies to say that I was in pain and crying mercy when he had known what was to be, and that why I was caused such pain was our master. He swore and swore at me until I spoke.

go., is all that I could say. Eion! He hurt you, that bastard raped you and he tried to beat you into a sick mess. He is murderer and your just damn lucky that he wasnt in the mindset to kill the only one of us thats too dumb to see that!!. He screamed at me, swore over and over; And I only spoke, go. Please just go away. Long into my unholy rest, bleeding from my mouth and still stained by bloody eyes that had either lain in my bloody pool or now lay as healed memories from an unknown injury. The young man who was our masters slave had not been exiled from his abode after he first attacked me, but only my room. I hissed my own concerns that he was only jealous and that he sought to take the love that I had known while he was so bitter in heart toward the man who had always fed us and had never made us want for all else. His vile face then contorted and he was gone without further words to imply his own disgust that I was still the favorite.

I was too unwell to move, but for the entire day I lay within my bed and tried my wounds with small clothes provided only for tending such deeds. The older slave said that he had sung his plea to our masters ear and hung strong until he was finally rewarded with his request to help, but I knew all to well who had sent them along, who loved me without clause, whos whole show of strong arms was only to ensure that I know whos I am. I knew. Most over I knew too well that my own master had sent me such finest of things in his love. My master loved me. He never said as much, most often only scolding  of me and saying that it was without real merit that I be graced to received his gifts, but I knew from each aching wound that stilled my torn muscles and from the fine rags that he had sent to help wipe away the pain with the smell of something mechanical embedded in their fiber.

He, my benevolent master, said that my beauty was enough to be seen before my weakness. And after all, I knew that he was right so I would always only  coo and hold myself closer to his able form as he held me to his chest or strolled augustly through the streets with me upon my leash and he holding it above like a treasured prize. So strong. Every day that I was graced to share his love. He was so warm toward my maturing body, spending three years to develop my place, and so welcomed as he sang his praise into the pain and as he told me that he was the only one I would ever find to love me. I knew that without needing his words. He was able to take me and to love me through every broken flaw of my soul.

This master who had loved me so much and whos love was without condition had sent me fine rags to clean my wounds and even just beyond me door I heard him speaking in a low voice to the ones who he did not bed as he did I. My master had come to find me so that he might take me into his arms, or that he might bed me again as he saw fit. Whatever motive it was I found that my incapable legs were now, without my needing to try, buckling beneath me as I strode with tears to call his name.

Lovingly, I took the handle of the door and spun it back to accept the light that would have carried my masters face to find that in its own stead lay some unknown knob that bore no internal release for the lock. My master had somehow misplaced my old door with one that was latched with a bolt and that could  not be unlocked from the side facing me. My small voice yelled for him, hushing the voices in a flash, and my tiny fist beat against the wood until I at last heard his heavy footfall leaving; Waking in that sound the sound of his other slaves departing my rooms entrance as well. They had all left me to be locked within this room, even he whom had loved me so much was turning back and back toward me while his feet strummed my chops against the floor.

Let me tell you about pain when my master left me to my fate. It was like being cast out of warm springs into the naked frost of a winters night. I could feel it deep within my bones. It hurt so much, and I could feel it churning my skin with sharp knives of agony that made each breath hold to the cold flesh of my throat while my master was torn from me by lust or hate that rang behind him with booted feet that I knew to be those of the one whom he had left with me before the night that I was first attacked.

I wanted to cry out. I wanted to tell him that I was so sorry, that whatever I had done I deserved this but that all I wanted was to be near him. But I was too weak. Too weak to call out as I collapsed crying uncontrollably toward his rage. I knew he was anger. I knew that I had failed him. But the tears didnt stop. I lay on my stomach before the door and I cried until there was nothing left to cry from and them I only whimpered until I felt him near.

Master always loved me, I could tell. Because every so often he would tell me I was his. He would find me with my collar and he would place a strong leash around the golden loop along the front and he would say: You are mine alone. Any action is mine, and any reward as well. You may serve to only make me be fitly seen as majestic, and so any fault will be punished against you alone. Without me you are nothing and you would make and have less than the nothing you would be. I am your only source for merit in this life and you owe me all of what you have. And I would coo because I knew that he was right.

I was his. I belonged to no one else. He owned me and he could do anything he wanted. I knew that my master loved me, that I was special, that I meant something to him because every so often he said my name. He said: Eion, my Pet. And then it was like every other day. He would give to me my beloved task, or he would give to me his anger, his follies, his woes and I would be left limp and bleeding; Too weak to move but overcome by joy because I knew that this is how he loved me.

With every fierce strike, with every gentle word, for every time I wept, for every time I laughed, for every time he struck me, and for every time he spared the rod; I knew my master loved me. And I loved him so much more.  The harsh memories of what we had done and the sounds of his leaving me made it all too real when the whine of the other slaves broken voice past.

That was to have been the last time that I would have ever seen that treatment, that I would ever have been helped from my masters room so carefully; One arm gently taken around my waist, the other locked in the scruff of my hair. I would never again be able to feel his hands against me in that way nor be so close nor bring to him again the joys that I once had. Even as my small hands stuck the door weakly I knew that none of this had been wrong and that I had served him to the best of my abilities; That one final night in which I  had bedded with my master would live with me for the rest of my life. It was the proudest and most painful time of my twenty one years.

I spent a month locked in that bedroom. The walls bearing in upon my flesh ever moment and I with nowhere to go. That room which had housed two slaves with room to walk now held too little room to even draw breath. Adorned by my bed, and my toys, I had only one thing left to spy; a single handy window whos frame I eyed everyday. Too small for me to escape, facing the wrong way for me to cry out for help, but still large enough only for me to stick my head through. Each day I thought of that window and of the cold release I could find within its jaw.

I could simply crawl into that window and lay the soft of my neck against the wooden frame, and then simply drop that pane of glass like a guillotine to end every suffering. I thought about everything and eyed that window even knowing that a day would never come that I would feel the blade of that glass against my flesh. I could simply snap the protective wooden frame from the bottom, leaving the clear celestial blade of glass to glit and shine like the translucent sword of an angel. I could even see it as I looked through the window; That razor edge that would cut through like hot steel to butter.

Now beautifully easy would it be to simply drop that blade myself, to sever my own neck, to be cast into the place where such people go. How very easy would it be to simply drop it like an axe and to escape this Hell that I found myself in for the Hell my master promised he would find me within! How very easy would I be to simply step into the gates of Hell, to simply wait where he was. Where he would be. Where he had been. How very simple would it all very much be.

He told my once that he would be there. That one day he would go there and he would take the reigns of Hell himself. He told me this once, whether it have been in drunkard stupor or whether it be my masters easiest powers that I could never have understood with a mind such as my own, I dont know or care. But he told that he would be there one day, that I would be there, that I would be taken there with him, and that I would be the pet of the one who was the killer and the coming of the king of Hell itself and yet I dont know. I just dont know.
He said one day that he would follow my into the depths of Hell itself and kill any that it took just to keep me his own. He said this. He said the bowls of Hell itself and yet; I can only look at that window everyday. Everyday allowing myself to grow closer. Everyday not hearing his voice and just wanting to die, to go to Hell or Heaven or whatever cosmic void there is and to find him there. What kind of simple f*cking act is this?! That window every morning, every night, every day, all day I could feel it against my neck and yet I never once acted upon it. What kind of pathetic creature am I that could not find the strength to know what was right in the eyes of my master. How very, very despicable of me.

I looked in that window every day and dreamt of it every night. Everyday I pounded that wooden floor with my feet as I paced and ached to be seen. And yet every single day that window would look me in the eyes and I would shutter back. I could not take what belonged to my master. I could not take my own life of his inventory without first his command. And so each day I died another death within my head and felt my heart tear farther from my chest. Everyday I lived in my own bile. Everyday just as the sun rose and as it set I would see that food placed within my room; The darkness beyond absolute save for one piercing blue eye.

For an entire month I ate nothing but soup and water. For twenty-nine days I lived without the voice of my master. And I died in the sleepless night, bleeding from my lips where I suffered starvation and mania afoot. Even through it, as I saw the bowls slide in and didnt hear my masters voice. My master had left me.

I never saw his face and he never spoke to me, but he kept me alive and I lingered obediently without complaint. On that final day, I heard him coming and I waited just within the door. As it was everyday,  just as the sun was painting the room orange and myself a bleak red, the door opened along enough for one foolish hand to leap forward to take hold of the doors frame. And as the soup was laid before me I felt the tips of my fingers burnt, charred by some great heat while I shrieked and saw the door fall to without his words or worries.

My terrorized voice rang, Master! I was wrong, forgive me!! Please!! Please, Master!!

I had done something wrong, some unforgivable, some cold and harsh act, some thing I should have never saw, some deed I should have never done, some wish I should have never made, and the only one I had ever loved, the one that had loved me, was gone.  On that twenty ninth day he delivered me my soup and brought me cold water; The kind within a fine blue glass with several large crystallized cubes of ice that I so sickly did not deserve, and he left. I could only lay there upon my stomach when he was gone and cry uncontrollably until I felt that my lungs would puncture and that my breath would simply fall away. All too soon and I have more to say, but I must now tack this last bit upon the wall and prepare myself to die.

And so I lay in such and I did not move or scribe my deeds while the days became night without my concern, and the world beyond rambled its vanity without my attent. I would wait and he may one day return. I would not ask for more.

When the two large men from the Slavers Market came, I turned to them and wept. I walked with my offered wrists,  both still raw by tooth and nail without catch, and they slid the handcuffs around my arm. My hands reached to embrace the only ones who had come and my leg was shattered as they drove their boot into me so that I was thrown into the dust. Steel soles can be so hard against the weak bones of those who are unworthy of their hate, but nothing could have ever touched the pain that came as I remembered my master as refused to speak at me and ever more leaving me without him. How little could I mean?

What sick act of hatred and stupidity could I have committed  to have crushed the love he had given me within the prim walls of his beloved chambers? The very same love that I had been shown when he placed the fine leash around my collar, the love of knowing that I was his pet and he my master; What grave, unforgivable sin could I have committed to take the love of my master from me?

As the sun set beyond my tiny cells, I felt the room fill with the fiery orange glow and it finally burnt within me until I could only surrender to the want of my own tears. Blood red from the glow, my nimble body sprawled along the floor, cursing in the voice of a child, wanting to die to simply hear him calling out to me, I was taken away by my sorrow and made whole as I cried.

In truth I never stopped crying. Even when the tears were dry and I found myself chained and naked upon the grave metal chair locked within the box of glass for all to see. Even when the scene changed to see the eyes that tore into me while I smiled like a slave and turned my eyes that would no longer shed tears when Id seek them so hard. I never stopped bleeding, and I never stopped crying, and I never stopped wanting to hear his voice and to feel his firm hand against my throat one last time. I failed him as a slave, and I failed myself as a human and a lover. Why cant death have come quickly.

Already, the cage is half red with my etched blood while I write. Soon they may take me into the back and either comply to rape me or, better yet, they may simply place that large spike against my skull and drive it in like they sometimes do with the damaged slave. Nothing quite yet, but I have been given  enough love from the master who must have still loved me, even as he left me to rot, that I would soon be at least moved to the steel bars where I could hear the ones who stared at me with wanting or jest.  I could even shut my eyes really tight and pretend that my master had never left.

Its okay when hes the one saying those things.

Because I always knew my master loved me.

__________________
This love has stripped me to the bone
When it began I was a Pet
Soon enough I was defiling my code
I wanted you as a friend
We spoke and made secrets to share and keep
We were happy and I was a fool
You said it has hard and I agreed that it always had been
And then I broke our creed
Hearing the pain in your voice and hearing it in my soul
I knew that we, that I, was not content
Soon I swore to be a Pet when you were strong in heart
And a Master when you needed
I made a promise I couldn't keep and now I almost regret it
I said we should be mates, or try
And I risked everything you'd already given for the greed of love
And now I almost regret it.

But now I am afraid to lose control
And I miss you everytime I breath
This is love, and it defies all that we'd sworn

~~~But I will never let you down~~~


Superior Member

Status: Offline
Posts: 2143
Date:
HouseBroken


This is the sequel to Kitty Love. It takes place several days after an incident that I have sorta added as a conclusion to an RP from this site that never really got finished. It was an inevitable ending anyway, but I think it's just sort of poetic for all the things he said he would do and all the times he denied feeling that way. Well. If you read the first one, then you know of Eion's strange housing with Roderick and this is your chance to see him once more in his deranged ramblings not so unlike my own.

Peace people.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My personal pet, and you will never..., the adhering warmth of blood sticking between my fingers as those two pinholes of bullet sheen blue still haunt the air before me. Passing glances are all it took as I readied my eyes to see those little smearing line each time the ground threw beneath never. Never take him away. Now leave..., those words, they weren't what I was reading, what I had read, what was meant for me to read, they weren't the real meaning. Those words were fake like the great many teeth that shone between the jagged lines of blood that ran the length and make pretty little symbols while I read into the mind of my own broken soul. Leave my sight before I take you to the grave.

And follow into Hell. Hell. Hell, is where I was as those pearly white teeth grinned into the arachne still painted into the walls of my mistress' attic and grinning like a jester as they burnt him into time for me to remember between bright glimpses. Those teeth shone like hellfire before me and bled deep labels of stolen life into the place between them, and when the light went out there he was again. Solomon, the one who had taken me in pains. Solomon, who's hand had broken my cheeks. Solomon, the one who faced the devil and lost to those eyes and died writhing in the pains of love. There he lay. Silently painted into the wall with those great spindles a mere inch from my mistress' throat and a mile deep into my soul.

Now leave my sight before I take you to the grave and follow into Hell. That was my master, just as the bleeding teeth that shone bleached white between the fast glares. Just like the thick red blood that stained my hands. Just like the sheet of flesh that I bore between my hands. Just as the parchment and red ink that came to with the next flash of that blatant white light. Into Hell... Just as he had said it those words came back and my eyes could once more shed those tears as the paper focused into my crisp sight and bled its crimson message with the next huge throw of the cast steel floor below.

For the benefit of Roderick Lhee,
A lone slave, unarmed and bound, has  been delivered to the given address. The slave in tow is a specially marked pleasure type, neko, male. The instruction at hand was the delivery of such by the date enclosed on in hand. We hereby announce the transaction of account to the one (1) slave that you have sent for. The further instruction to contact the home has been denied and marked unattended. In the presence of illness, injury, or loss of life we announce the denial of insurance for the deliver and handling of this slave. In the case of life-long servitude rebounding we have noted that this slave is still marked 'Active', if this matter is incorrect or improperly recorded please announce this to the Marketeer in head. Your regional branch has included a number and a name for the one who oversees this concern. This slave is labelled as use for pleasure, protection, and breed. If this is false or improperly recorded, please direct your concern to the bidder who received your pay. For any concerns or further incident of this slave's compliance we are unable to attend for the nature of this slave and offer you the fullest of our well wishes. Thank again, Mr.Roderick Lhee, for the service provided for the training and facilitation of our wares through the monetary and personal regards.

This letter is written by the scribe of Yincid Loyde.
Thank you and well-be.


A simple little note that had been placed along my collar when the great white ghouls had taken me from my bedding in the sea. They had saved me. They had spared my death and restored to me to the life that I had grown so fond to be in. They restored me to the status of a slave, and found my mistress gone without my company; Dead by her own status and unreturnable to my own. When these great specral things had ceased my throat I knew that death would never be so unkind. In fact, as it were I only finished reading this great white beast that lay between three fingers of each hand when the final bout of my tears came still upon my cheek. The entire world to my concern leapt once more and threw me to the place that marked the edge of my world as the tires caught and I rang the entire van with the collision of my head.

One gruff voice barked, "Watch the f*cking walls you daft tart you'll like to..". The van lurched and my bound hands drew the chain tight to my back as I was thrown once more and cried out as I struck the floor with a dull crack. I slid with that busted lip up the wall and could not hold a low whimper that enraged the gentleman further so that the tiny meshed window flew open and one hand snatched wildly for the top of my head. Gruff fingers slid by and took a small cluster of my blond locks before I could once more find myself enough to evade him and cringe. They were the same ones who had delivered me the into my first home and over the years each had grown more bizarre; From the lizard-looking brunette man to the tank with a mop of grey-black mess above his monstrous form they were furthered only into a more animated state of surreal being.

I cried my apologize and knelt at that point halfway back until the larger man slid the window shut between us and the blast of bad music started back upward. Those nimble fingers behind me locked onto my collar and I clutched the only thing that I could find to stopped myself from being throw again. One huge lurch tested me, drawing a gruff sound and no motion to my whit, and without faultering I remained as I sat until the tiny note slid back into the light and the sound of something heavy being stricken threw my sole glimpse of the world first to the road below and then skyward to reveal us turning back along some circle that lay before what had to be my new home; A great piece of normality that was too large to be the family home it implied.

Tubby and Lizard came back around as their shadows strode into the first blast of light which was in turn the double doors flying open only to reveal my newest abode for use. It had been six days since I was taken from Miss Eme's house, seventeen months since I had been entered into the market, and seven months plus a year since I had been bedded; And every waking memory of these things and more crossed my doomed brow as the two took my thick, beautiful collar and hiked me into a swinging thrust that sent me face down into the hard earth followed by the folded shirt, lined in mink, that my first Master had been so unspeakably kind to leave me.

I lay there as the van started with a pop and glared into the dirt until it was long since gone and I could feel one childishly soft hand gracing the spot just beside my neck to beckon me look at the one who had exited to find me. His face was beautiful, and his black hair totally unkept in the glaring winds that surrounded us. As the male looked into my eyes and bid me to rise with his silent compromise, I began to wonder just why he was still staring like a child to his father with what was becoming more apparent in every moment that passed; That thick black strap that was his compromise. The boy hiding in his own mess of hair was revealing his neck on one side, and he was offering the metal loop of a collar that was exactly like mine. It had the same leather body. It had the same steel clasp. It had the same large bat below the hook. It even had the same scribe on the inner links of its ring. It was exactly like mine, and he was exactly like me, and he was showing that prize of a slave's body and threatening as much as begging for me to touch that blind place on his neck and to take him like I'd seen my masters do so many times before.

The child stared at me with hate and respect, and when we finally came to my thouch and his reply it was a price that I would never have taken if I'd known the name I would receive. This child was not alone or unfamiliar with the others, hidden as he remained from the moment we entered to find the rooms devoid, but he was the only one who would ever say my name in the way he did. This child with the beautiful face called me 'Road Wreck' from the time that I set eyes on that silver look until the day I found my hide torn from the place beneath my chin. He called me 'Road Wreck' or 'Road', and when I was blessed he would only call me 'bastard piece of ****'. It was horrible.

Because everyday I sat there to watch him eat. Three times a day 'Road Wreck'. Twenty one times a week 'Road'. Ninety long days a month 'Road Wreck'. And every time he spoke he was me from the eyes of myself. He loved me. He hated me. And once not long into those days he showed me his face; A sight of deep red scars and missing bones that shone in the light like hot sickness lain across a fermenting stretch of road that would bleed and leak puss whenever he would let the make-up fade and the bits of plastic flesh fall free. His entire body was torn to shreds and, in those days when I sat with him and questioned which one was really the prisoner of the other, I found that his mind was so much worse. The boy who loved me like I had loved another was utter insane and totally free shared to be locked into the dank cellar of a home that I could never know as my own; Even when I came back that first day without knowledge as to why this boy named Arakiel would say he needed to be locked away only to find the next of my strange discoveries in the caramel shaded neko who looked like living feral heat in a t-shirt two sizes too small.

She was Veronica, the bookkeeper if I will, and she knew me already when I arrived. I needed only take to the top of those cellar stairs before Veronica told me hello and introduced herself as the ex-breeding tool of the Master. She said that I was supposed to be their master, and that the meals would be delivered raw so that I could allocate who needed which chores. She even told me where to find the clothes of a master stored in the room that no one could access without a key; The one found on my thin inner necklace that night when I joined her in bed. We spoke in that first day of many things and found to my inventory that two other slaves were being held there in the central hallways and that even a fifth slave was dictated to live in the lower room across from the heavy door leading to the cellar below that housed Arakeil. She told me that two of them were nekos, one human, another seeming to be an angel before the master prior, another of the Master's breeders who vanished sudden, had torn his wings loose as punishment, and the missing last one across from the angel was even rumored to be a demon himself. Four boys and one girl. And strangely enough, the only think ever said as to pecking order was that Veronica's belly was never to be touched by the males. They were free to do whatever of each other so long as none left the doors of the abode and none bedded with the girl I took only once.

That first day was simple. It did not hurt to be there. I had never been a master, but in that time I think I was somehow lulled to believe that.... Well. I think that I thought that I was safe to think I would be safe from the other things that had haunted me. I slept with and in that neko on my first night, and then I never think I slept again. I would lay there quite often and rest my eyes and my body. But I never slept again because every time I would remember her. Miss Emerald had always been such a beautiful singer, and she had been nice beyond anything that I ever deserved. Its sad, really, that I now lay here beneath the cold and starry sky, the fickle man resting in the moon only bold enough to show one long tear from beyond my breeze-filled window, scribing my story in the way I always had. I lay here now and face this ceiling overhead, because tonight he will be back. I can smell him in the air. I know that he is coming and that I only have so many shirts that I can spare and so much ink with which to write upon them, but I must not let him see what I have written in each collar's lining nor as a whole and more than that I must let someone know. When he is back and I am. I must let you know this. If you are not him, than I am dead. I must not let this go without saying. I loved her, sort of, and I wanted her to see this. Please. If you ever hear a voice like angels on the bedding on the sea. Please. Throw this final piece into the sea and pray for me. I can hear him now below me, and I must let her know. It was worth every pain.

Solomon was right. This is over. I am no longer meant to live. I couldn't stop him from taking you, and tonight I have no hope of stop Him from taking me away. I never meant to die, Emerald. I never meant for you to die or for you to leave or for me to leave without saying. I loved you , Emerald, even if it were as a friend or a mother. I never wanted this to happen and yet he's here and I know that I am going to die. And I can't even cry for help.

I loved you, Emerald, and I neve anim_4a369f6b-1359-bf24-0586-ba270d6aa189.gif

__________________
This love has stripped me to the bone
When it began I was a Pet
Soon enough I was defiling my code
I wanted you as a friend
We spoke and made secrets to share and keep
We were happy and I was a fool
You said it has hard and I agreed that it always had been
And then I broke our creed
Hearing the pain in your voice and hearing it in my soul
I knew that we, that I, was not content
Soon I swore to be a Pet when you were strong in heart
And a Master when you needed
I made a promise I couldn't keep and now I almost regret it
I said we should be mates, or try
And I risked everything you'd already given for the greed of love
And now I almost regret it.

But now I am afraid to lose control
And I miss you everytime I breath
This is love, and it defies all that we'd sworn

~~~But I will never let you down~~~
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