Sunday, 19 June 2016

Distance

I missed you today for the first time.

I wasn't even thinking about anything. I was idly wandering. I noticed a DVD in the supermarket, it was one I had previously watched with you. Suddenly an electrical connection was sparked in the brain that jump started my heart. It hurt.

It is never really an end. I mean, when 'communications break down', of course this signals an end- but ultimately life goes on. You go on, and I go on. But We ended. And somehow, somewhere, these electrical kick-starts open a brief window into what might have been. They present an opportunity of what you could have won. They often do not reflect the reality but I don't think that is their objective.

Instead the heart hurts, and uses the emotions to heal.

The emotions become overwhelmed and feed pain back to the heart, and so the cycle of grief and bereavement continues.

Saturday, 14 May 2016

Unleashed

There comes a time where the song you have been listening to for years suddenly sounds like it is being performed only for you. The words seem to make sense outside of fiction, they take on life, they are talking directly to you about life, about your life.

And then I crashed into you,
And I went up in flames.
Could've been the death of me,
But then you breathed your breath in me.
And I crashed into you,
Like a runaway train.
You will consume me,
But I can't walk away

They met each other a little over a year whilst at work, he was new and keen to find a new challenge, she was burned out, disillusioned and cynical. Their working relationship was one of hello and goodbye, she was leaving as he was arriving and yet that was enough.
They both remember the day they met, he would later confess the immediate intensity he felt for her.
Open books are always read, the exposed pages show glimpses of words, some will catch a headline chapter, a key word or two and others will pick up the book and devour the whole lot.

She knew instantly he was different. Everything about him suggested he thought in a different way, he managed to work his personality into his image without it looking manufactured- quirky some might say. He marvelled at surreal moments and read people from more than just their physical and oral cues. She was cut from the same cloth, it hadn’t escaped his notice either.

The rain was heavy, she quickly got into his car and closed the door. The scent was different to her car, it felt comfortable, like safe places usually do. Within a moment she saw more evidence of his quirks, CD’s neatly stacked on the dashboard behind a shrine to a yoga teacher and a random pair of gloves in the footwell beneath the glove box, she appreciated the irony of this. Most of all she felt his presence. He sat at a 90 degree angle, giving her all of his attention. She felt awkward, confused, frustrated her ego was in overdrive “what are you doing here?” She looked up at him, and for the first time she really noticed how blue and sparkly his eyes were, she noticed his glasses in the compartment beneath the radio, she couldn’t remember a time when she had seen his eyes sans glasses. The Clark Kent/Superman irony also struck her. He smiled at her, his kindness allowed her to relax, just enough to step back from her guarded position.

Her ego was getting louder; it affected her ability to think in a straight line. She tried to explain, although she knew explanations were not expected with him, he was happy to allow her just to be. But she needed to explain. The more she dug, the more words crashed into each other allowing her to finally reveal “I’m so very sad right now” and with that her words turned to tears, turned to sobs. He reached out and took her hand. She looked through her tears at his hand on hers, reassuring, cool to the touch. She felt the flow of energy through his hand to hers. She paused, allowing the moment to help her breathe. His empathic nature gave him away “Let me give you a proper hug”, she moved in, grateful for the contact, to hide her face, hide her tears. He gently stroked her back, his breathing was calm, regulated. She pushed the side of her face against his chest, like a cat needing more contact. He held her tighter and she buried deeper still, breathing his aftershave in like the bouquet found in a wine glass. She felt the weight of her body relax into his arms and slowly her breathing matched his.

She pulled back slowly, able to continue their conversation but acutely aware she wanted to be back in his arms. Was it an act of comfort or did he feel it to? She tried again “I know I’m not in a very good place at the moment and I don’t want to drag you into my mess”, she looked up and was immediately lost in his gaze again. He took her hand again, “You want to know the secret for being happy?” she nodded maintaining eye contact, “It is to be completely present in the moment. Allow yourself to be happy, it is a choice”. She nodded, her eyes welling up with warm tears spilling down over her cheeks. She moved back in, back to his chest, that place of comfort, safety. Again she felt herself relent and relax into him.

With every breath, she was acutely aware of the second hand, circling the clock dial, a reminder that the hands of time wait for no one. She sat back up, “You’re going to be late back to the office, I don’t want you to get into any trouble”. His hand gesture and shake of the head reassured her that he wanted to stay in this moment as much as she did. She began to hold direct eye contact now, time would be upon them soon enough, there were no time for nerves, his confidence in calmly staring directly into her eyes electrified her down to the core.
“I’m going to go, really, I don’t want you to get into trouble”. He touched his lips “Just one kiss?” Suddenly there they were there: the deciding moment. Gateway kisses, the first kiss where there are no second attempts, simply choice- do or do not. This was most unlike any previous scenarios, she wondered if that question had ever been asked of her before as opposed to the general taking or giving.

Before she had anytime to think, she was moving, heading towards him, her lips gently coming to a standstill on his. Electricity. She didn’t want to move, and it was clear he wasn’t going to either. As she gently released, she retuned almost immediately and pushed back again, a little harder. This was all the encouragement he needed, in one move his arm snaked around her waist pulling her closer to him, drawing her ever deeper in. He moved quickly deftly working his kisses down her neck giving just the right amount of pressure when needed. The thrill. Natural chemicals, adrenaline, dopamine, oxytocin…addictive…physical. Every time she thought she couldn’t take anymore, she knew she could, she needed this and he knew it too. Fierce. He was a steady, accomplished opponent, he knew his goal and he was going to get it. He pushed back against her stating his place and she felt it, she bit his lip gently, he waited, baiting her and she knew it. She smiled…touché.

She felt a stir deep deep within her soul…she closed her eyes whilst a wave of energy rolled over her and as she breathed both in and then out she was reminded of a time, a woman, a life force. A warrior cry, tribal and strong- she had awakened and now there was nothing she could do but let her come. She breathed deeply in expectancy, there was no choice- just the path ahead, as the oxygen reached her lungs she felt the woman lock into place, possessing the space she had previously owned. Freedom. She breathed out slowly and opened her eyes. Yes: she had returned. She smiled and met his fixed eye contact. She held his face in her hands, and pushed her third eye into his. He never tore his eyes away once, the woman within mused over this liberator, she had waited a lifetime for someone so strong.

He leaned into her neck- her Achilles heel and with his next move this would not only signal intent but also possession. He was going to claim her and she knew it. There would be no protest. She sat straight and exposed her neck “Bite me” she whispered. He paused and devoured her. She melted back into his chest. He held her close with both hands whilst she rested in complete submission. Finally free.

Tuesday, 5 March 2013

I am. He is.

I am. He is.

Individually we exist. Together we live.

One & One, two times two, couple, duet, duo, duo,…du-oh.

Oh. Surprise. Off guard, vulnerability, prey, victim, at His mercy. Fight or flight? Biological response. What will she do? More importantly what will He do?

The Challenge.

Mentally she fights. She holds her own- able to keep pace, match his subjects and offer opinions. He liked that. As delicate and considered as she was, He was less. He worried little about offending anyone. His thoughts lay not in the detail but the outcome.

Physically they were no match yet she fights. She refuses to lie down and be dictated to, the suggestion alone drives her wild. Wild like an animal…ferocious, the fire in her eyes. He watches His prey with a considered calm…just enough rope. Taut. Taught. Lesson learned. He pulls her in, each word chips away at her strength, breaking her down one step at a time, twisting the rope, pulling her in. Calm, safe, breath..breathing… “It’s only ever temporal dear”. Each word a step, each step He takes ground, her ground. Calm, safe, breath…breathing… words. Within His presence, under his spell she saw Him, she recognises who he is and in the final act words are no more. The tongue of the wise brings healing…His words cascade over her creating bonds and ties that emanate from Him. Her body as a rag doll, defeated never destroyed. “Whose. Are. You?” Her retort as a breath more than a word “Yours. Always”.

Submission.

Spiritually they became. Drifting to a place where he took her hand. Flight, time to fly. His breath inhaled deep into his lungs and exhaled into her mouth. Breathing Him in. Each breath a step…calm, safe. He leans into her…protection…she pushes back against his chest…protected.

I am His and He is mine.

This is our life. The story we make.

The Collar

Single, Female, Unmarried and ultimately Unowned. She knew there was an element of vulnerability about her position, but as of yet she had come to no harm.

She had those who knew, those who could not claim her yet had a stake in her welfare and for that she was grateful, it meant she never fully felt alone.

Tonight was different; there was a stirring within her, a subtle release of adrenaline that was enough to starve off fatigue, which in turn led to acute alertness akin to merriment.

There was something deliciously decadent about parties in the winter. The hustle of the city, less free and easy as in summer where the heat of the days set about a romance into the air. People drift, days are long and the light is bright and energising. Winter is the exact opposite, days are short and people move quickly from outdoors to indoors chasing the warmth, their attire is layered, and they breathe plumbs of mist as their breath meets the stark cold air. The light fades with a watery winter sun and all too soon the darkness of the morning returns to take hold of the night once again.
She had been aware of his presence all night. She knew she was and had been a focus for his attention because each time she saw him his eyes locked onto hers with a stare not a look. Under normal circumstances she would have been plotting her escape, counting the minutes until it was an appropriate enough time to leave without fear of looking rude. Steering away from unknown men and toward those who could protect her.

The night wore on; friendships were won and lost, arguments were fought and settled, drink won the sober stakes, and she found herself adopted into a group of friends. As with any circle there were leaders, followers, clowns and observers, partakers, dancers and those who kept things grounded. It falls to those who hold the ability to engage with those strangers outside the circle to integrate them in such a way they feel a natural part of the proceedings. This is how she had been acquired. She had been patiently waiting her turn at the bar when one rather rude gentleman cut in front of her demanding his order and waving his notes in the air. Having been witness to this, 2 men talking at the bar manoeuvred themselves in such a way she was able to bypass rude gent and cut straight to the bar. She turned to thank the men and from there they ensured she was to meet the rest of their crowd.

Suddenly she was standing right next to him.

“A moment outside madam” he said in a hushed tone.

Ahh, and so it begins, she didn’t need to speak after all- he made the first move, she turned and smiled; her eyes flashed green with a smug sense of achievement in holding out. “I am fine thank you” she replied with complete conviction of her part in this dance.
“You misunderstand child…I am not asking” he whispered in hissed tones whilst the grip he exercised on her elbow only further emphasised his words.
Her mind became a muddle, as if a hundred different thoughts had just engulfed her mind and it felt like she had her head plunged under-water. Who was he? His words began an unlocking inside her, she knew him, but at the same time he was a stranger to her…though she clearly was no stranger to him.
She didn’t want to go outside, but she had to, he was already walking and his grip was still tight on her arm. Even if she had wanted to call out to her new friends she was unable, all she could do was follow him. A couple of them acknowledged her dismissal and privately gave a knowing smile to each other. Assumptions were made.
He passed by many people, marching her away leading her on a very direct path to an exist onto a side street outside of the hotel, as they reached the door and passed through it the cold air took her breath away. Rationally her mind started to counterbalance her physical senses reasoning that he could not expect her to be outdoors for a very long time or he would have suggested getting her coat from the cloakroom.
There were a few people in the side street, near enough to witness but not near enough to hear the conversation. They were preoccupied with dragging on their cigarettes and bantering to notice their presence.
He turned to face her, leaving go of her arm. He was taller than she was yet his dominance towered over her. “You desire me”
Conflicting messages rushed to her already confused mind. He wasn’t asking the question, that was clear enough but what exactly was he saying? She fought to regain a semblance of order. “I…I desire you?”
“Yes”
“How?”
Her questions seemed to amuse yet perplex him. He bent over her more forcing her to bend backwards to accommodate him.
“Think child…think back, remember…”
The more he spoke, the more something was becoming vastly familiar.
She felt drunk yet she wasn’t. Briefly she wondered if her drink had been spiked.
“…think.”
Her legs began to give way, she was going to fall, her eyelids were heavy and keeping them open became a task. Many emotions began to rise within her she was conflicted, this man, whoever he was seemed to have such a commanding presence he was literally extracting something from within her…but what exactly was he doing? Hypnosis? Suggestion? Rationally she knew at any moment she could leave, she could break away from this, the more she thought about that she felt the control coming back to her. She regained some of the use of her legs.
“I don’t know you, what is your business with me?!” there was an air of indignation in her voice.
He paused, in one move he looked her deep in the eye inches from her face her eyes looking up locked into a stare she could not escape. Intensity, passion- he was angered.
“Child I knew you since before you would ever remember. I know your journey but I also know the right path. You DESIRE me!”
This time her legs gave way, she was falling, his arm deftly snaked around her waist, cradling her back and holding the back of her head. Her eyes heavy, battling to remain conscious and losing the battle.
He was holding her, the weight of her easily carried on one arm whilst his other arm remained at his side.
Her breathing became shallow, adrenaline causing her heart to beat as if it would burst. She was becoming aware of another level of consciousness, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. The alley way was dark and dank, one or two of the smokers seemed to be aware of something happening, but for all the world they were invisible.
“Tell me child...” his words whispered softly, waiting with a patience she had not yet seen.
“Help me…” her words devoid of voice, yet audible.
He inhaled deeply “Yesssss…” as weak as she became, he grew in strength.
She felt empty, as a rag doll balancing on his arm and yet she knew within her being, she had never felt so safe.
As she exhaled, he inhaled, she opened her eyes and was aware for the first time of a golden light, as her eyes focused, she could make out a dust, a covering in the light, strands of it beginning to build.
“I…..” words she had to say, yet ability failing…“I NEED you!” she managed; exhaling deeply and with everything she admitted with her mouth, her inner being released. Years of darkness, fear and insecurity began to leave her as a magnet attracts an opposite, so the dark could not resist the light. As he exhaled the dark he turned it to light more strands wove their way around the Master.
“Yes child” he said as he breathed in deeply, concentrating on catching anything that could possibly hinder whilst at the same time she knew all the dark must be expelled before she could fully be healed.
There was no other way, and she wanted to try nothing more than this. Nothing else would work anymore and the way she felt within the very fibre of her being, she knew with an absolute certainty that this man had the answer to her every need.
“Take me Master, I give myself to you for now and ever more. I love you and I choose you”
With that final act of submission she felt the very deepest of her darkness make one last bid to hang on, it clawed at her insides, desperate not to loose the reign of control that had been present for so long. Her back arched as she let out a cry, he wrapped both arms around her as her body went taught, bracing for pain.
She cried out.
He bent forward and gently whispered in her ear “You are mine, for now and ever more. I bought you with a price and I love you. I will always love you”.
And so it was done.
The strands of light became blinding as they wove at high speed, circling and encompassing the two, binding them together radiating a gentle heat that touched every aspect of her spirit.
As they slowed down they swirled slowly around her neck, twisting and weaving until the golden light changed from one state into another, from vapour to solid, that of the purest gold. She opened her eyes and gazed at him, her Master. She smiled and he smiled back- everything looked so different to her, although she knew the alley was dark and dirty suddenly it became intolerable to her yet looking on him she feared nothing. Her hand touched her neck and felt the collar. It was smooth to the touch, resting gently on her collarbone.
“What happened?” she asked
“It is your collar child” he replied “it is a perfect circle that cannot be broken, there is no clasp because you are not in bondage, it is formed with love and by love. As far as the east is from west, so I love you, there is no beginning and no end, and so this collar represents my command over your life”.



Monday, 30 January 2012

Vanilla.

The street light streamed in through her shutters, other than that the room was devoid of any light source. She preferred it that way as the two things that petrified her enough to evoke hyper-ventilation were deep water, and pitch black. As far as these things went she never really had any cause to go looking for water deep enough to immerse herself so completely, and because she originated from the town, she never had any experience of living without light pollution.

Another reason she liked to see beyond the windows at night was to gaze at the night sky. Stars held a magical quality for her. As timeless as the seasons, they were part of the very fabric of the world at its most basic level.
It was Vincent Van Gogh who said:

“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”

She related to that in its entirety, a little like staring out to sea, noises and distractions fell away until all that was left was her soul itself.

That was happening now, her head on the pillow, her eyes fixed on the stars visible between the shutter slats. Memories began to fill her thoughts. Always the same, like a carnal desire being pulled from the depths of her being.

Like a replayed movie in her brain, she could repeat everything or skip to the unabridged version that she considered highlights. Better still though; because it was relative real-time, she could still feel his mouth on her nipple. The way in which he caressed her………a near perfect balance of pleasure and pain. Past boyfriends had experimented with these themes, yet none had ever gotten the balance right and because of that, confused as to what the appeal was, she had long since dismissed this activity as something ‘not for her’.

It can be a dangerous thing to pull on a loose yarn; the harder you pull the more the sweater unravels….As she thought back to how he had made her feel: empowered, desired, hungry, sexual these thoughts evoked further memories and the movie replayed more.

There was something ultimately frantic about their liaisons because that was precisely what they were….opportune moments in which to engage self on a purely carnal level. Both knew the others desires, not through years of gathering data piece by piece, but through blunt concise messages and online conversations where the truth is not hindered by embarrassment or body language, it delivers a stark reality in a black and white Ariel typeface. From there, experiences are shared, fantasies are divulged and together they wind around the minds of the pair culminating in a strong physical desire for each other, the purest form of lust.

His words resonated through her mind “You make me insane when I am around you” this totally floored yet fascinated her because as much as sex was a virtual primary talking point, to her mind it was not something they easily spoke about in person. She felt clumsy and awkward trying to find an appropriate time, most of the time was inappropriate or when she had wanted to initiate touch, he seemed to rebuke her actions preferring to talk about lighter subjects and shared hobbies. There was never anything, as far as she could see, particularly longing or wanting about these moments. Maybe this was why it always seemed more opportune at the end of the day, at the end of their time together, when the light had faded and the bright young things came out to play. When words ceased and actions began he always maintained that within his mind she was a whisker away from his dominance.

Her inner self wanted to know more. For the first time in her life she was not on an equal or dominant footing. She hated to admit it but she was more submissive to him than with any other boyfriend. He was stronger in physical strength but also in character. He promised her he would push her boundaries, test her, and take her to her limits….it was like some dream sequence or role reversal, was she more Vanilla than him?

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

El Tango

The room was dark, smoky, warm, crowded; she wasn’t entirely sure why she was here…or how she got here. Like the beginning of a dream, it felt like she was asleep. Maybe she was. Shadows, people she didn’t know if she could just remember something.

She couldn’t really see much- there was a dancefloor, a band was playing on the stage- it looked like some sort of social evening. Maybe she should get a drink- try to piece it together at the bar.
As she turned to head to the bar, she walked straight into his chest.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry”
He didn’t speak, his face totally obscured by his hat, the shadows covering the rest.
He wore a sharp pinstripe suit but that was all she could make out- more embarrassed about not watching where she was walking.

She moved to walk around him but he stepped to block her path, she looked up and in one move he grabbed her wrist, he held it firmly and began to pull her in the opposite direction.
This really did feel like a dream, things like this don’t happen in real life.

As she looked around the room, to try and call out- she realised no one was watching, they were sat in groups or couples and they were totally absorbed in what they were talking about- she wondered if they even noticed her. They all looked happy, laughing and joking in the shadows of the room she suddenly realised she couldn’t understand their language.

She allowed herself to be led by him, in a dreamlike state she arrived at the dancefloor. As they reached a place he released his grip- this time he took her into hold. The band began to play a Tango.
She was a competent dancer, but for this type of dancing she didn’t know these steps. He began to dance.
“I’m sorry, I can’t Tango”
He ignored this, continuing to dance around her, the strength in his body masculine, making elegant shapes.
She felt clumsy, trying to get his attention- he wasn’t listening.
“Excuse me, I don’t know the steps”
She moved as if to leave the floor.
He blocked her as he had done before, this time taking her into hold as he began to lead.

“You don’t belong here”
She sensed anger in his words…her failure to comply with the dance only fuelled this more, the staccato steps, the speed of the movement she felt totally lost.
Lost, frustrated and still confused as to why she was here and what was happening. Yet relieved that someone knew what was happening.

“Listen to me” he whispered in her ear.
“Dance with me”.
His voice was gravelly yet strong, his direction was comforting. She allowed herself to press further into hold- her chest close against his. There was something attractive about his assertive demeanour. She was so close to him, his aroma got into her head, slowly she remembered something. A dance… small steps she learned a long time ago, bit by bit.
For every experience she had ever had there had been a lesson, growth, a step. She was feeling memories, dreams, everything she had ever experienced bringing her to this moment- flowing into her head at once- it was too much to process. She closed her eyes.

Suddenly silence.

The cackling laugher of the other people in the room stopped- they were all there, she knew if she looked they would be there but all she heard was the music...and his breathing. She opened her eyes and fixed her eyes on the dance floor- she was no longer thinking- she was connected to her partner. She could anticipate his moves and match them, the moves became fast and then slow- she extended and he directed, all the while joined at the chest, her heart beating close to his.
There was no need to think at this time- he knew the way, he was the way. All she had to do was stay in hold and dance his steps.

Saturday, 1 January 2011

Beyond the Picket Fence

Haiku for him
My brother in heart
How quickly the tide turned
I mourn for that time

My lover in heart
I could cry you a river
I wish you the best


Everyone has the ability to be multi-faceted. Of this I am quite convinced. However you wish to develop those facets is your journey, that’s the journey that you will look back on and call life.

For as many people there are in the world today, there are personalities and facets to accommodate them. It is rare that any two would ever be identical but empathy and understanding are a common place between people. Like a cut diamond, you can turn a person, and absorb them, the colours, the sparkle the many faces, like masks they cover the facet of a person and give it a personality.

Relationships are evolving.
I don’t need to meet you to understand you.

I saw your photographs and read your emails. I understood your character and through a process of questions, answers, information exchange and processing, I formed a judgement. I found your circle of friends, your family, you opened a window to your world and I stood in your garden and observed.

There are problems that surface when looking into a life and they are exactly the same as when looking into a home. You know who lives there, you know their routine. What you don’t know is what is said when the doors are locked and the windows are closed.
Like pieces of a jigsaw I filled in the blanks.
In my mind you were happy behind your picket fence and immaculate drapes……how shocking when the true façade was revealed.

Information exchange is a powerful catalyst. The more you gave the more I assimilated, the more your emails stacked in my inbox, the faster I responded and the more I said…and the less reserved you became and I wanted to know, more had to know.

The diamond turned and in a flash the mask slipped. You saw my true colours, red-hot, wanton, unrestrained….you recognised me for who I was and unwittingly I had dropped all my cards straight into your lap. It had been a long time since you had seen me, and you wanted to see more- you were hungry. For a moment, our worlds touched and the connection was made.

I tried my best to remain above board, socially acceptable and proper in an attempt to twist the mask back to the time when I was standing in your garden looking in, but sadly this just increased your desire and want- ironically the harder I tried, the more it worked against me.
You wanted the Bad Girl, and she wanted you, we had come too far to ignore what we both knew. You could twist the mask with a flutter of words and my mind was transported. I could not longer stay a spectator in the garden.

We knew I couldn’t come into the house, and you couldn’t come outside, beyond the picket fence- not until the time is right for you. And that is why I had to leave.