The Muse

I can sit here and blog about my crazy life all day long but I am stuck right now.

I know I am working on myself ... but I really want to be set on fire.

I want to finish something... anything... 

I can’t force it because it just turns to shit if I do that.

I used to complain about not having time to write. I have lots of time now and I cannot seem to summon forth the words. 

I don’t even feel like drawing.

I wish I could dance, but it is too soon after surgery.  I think.

*sigh*

     “As much as I appreciate the gesture of friendship you have offered; I have come to request something specific. Perhaps something a friend may do for a friend.”

     He sighed and folded his hands behind his back. The corners of his mouth fell gloomily and drew Storm’s attention. Her features softened and her wings wilted behind her. The emptiness was unmistakable. He continued to explain, gesturing with one hand.

     “You see, My Dear Lady, I am growing old and sickly--” he balled his fist and coughed into it, “--and I would love nothing more than to have some companionship and some lovely singing in my last days.”

     Storm inhaled sharply and covered her mouth with her hand as her eyebrows climbed up toward her hairline. Her small squeak was muffled until she dropped her hand to reach for his. She brought his hand to her cheek with both of hers and spoke desperately.

     “Oh my Dear, Dear Alastor, Sir! I will do it. I will come and sing for you and tell you stories about the Dandelions.”

     She inhaled raggedly as tears welled in her eyes. Alastor eased his hand from her grasp, pressing his lips together. Was he smiling? Or grimacing? Was he in pain? Storm let out a soft squeal.

     “Alastor! Oh I’m sorry! I hope I didn’t hurt you, Sir! I could ease your pain a little.”

     She reached her hand towards his chest and he swiftly snatched her fingers just inches from his heart and brought them to his lips. Storm gasped and her eyes snapped to her fingers before sliding up to his heavy lidded stare. As a muse, her empathic ability was bombarded. She expected to feel pain, but instead her face and body felt as if she were standing in front of the sun.

     If that wasn’t enough, Alastor placed a slow lingering kiss upon the tips of her delicate fingers and said, “My nivalo kitsuk Ar’rn… I’m afraid that it is too late for some things.”

     He let her hand slip from his grasp and turned his body away from her to pace a few steps. Storm stood there gaping. She had the ability to regulate her own body temperature, however, just then her spider silk tunic was feeling heavy.

     My nivalo kitsuk Ar’rn. She repeated in her mind a few times. It meant: “My lovely little Storm” in the ancient Keaya’varian tongue. Storm could recall certain pieces of knowledge given to her on her creation day. The old Elven language was one of those gifts. No one ever spoke that way anymore, save for the elder Elves, yet those words sounded so elegant rolling off his tongue, and Storm felt his smooth voice travel from her porcelain tapered ears to her rapidly beating heart. If she could’ve floated out of her tall black boots, she would have. Instead she remained transfixed; staring like a milksop.

     Alastor folded his arms across his chest and glanced over his shoulder at Storm. He gave her a small grin and let it fade before he continued.

     “My current condition is quite terminal. There is no cure, so I can only hope to make the most of my time here.”

     He turned to face her completely; his lips painting a thin somber line across his face. He waited for a few moments, watching her. His eyes roamed her features. Storm assumed he was searching for more of an answer and she was just about to open her mouth to respond when Alastor suddenly closed the distance between them. A brief second of lucid thought told her she should run but something about being so close to him; the scent of amber, the warmth, his voice, it all compelled her to stay right where she stood. He cupped her face in his hands and she knew right away she was as helpless as a kitten. She swallowed hard as her heart felt as though it might punch right out of her chest. She felt his hands trembling as they tightened slightly; his eyes penetrating. She could not look away. She really didn’t know if she wanted to. He spoke in a rough whisper.

     “So I have your promise then, Dear Ar’rn?”

     Storm nodded and licked her lips.
“M-hm.”

     He softened and his hands relaxed a bit. He smiled gently and brushed the thumb of one hand over her lips.

     “Good girl.” He whispered again, “Then I will meet you here on the morrow at the same time, Okay?” Storm nodded again.

     “Yes, Sir.” She said quietly.

     She closed her eyes and a chill lingered all around her as she no longer felt him standing near her. She rubbed her arms in a vain attempt at soothing the cold empty air. She opened her eyes just in time to see Niam drifting in a lazy circle to the ground below. Alastor was gone without a trace.

I decided I might share a little of one of the novels I’m working on. It’s called Dark Star. This is only the first two pages of the first chapter. It really doesn’t have anything to do with kink or BDSM.... although my little muse is the first Dungeons and Dragons character I ever created. This is her story.

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     Fathomless, colorful eyes surveyed the patch of dandelions at her fingertips; like tiny golden balls of velvet. The soft yellow tufts waved in response to her breath as she lowered her face close. The scent of a heavy summer sun on a fresh rain filled her nose as her lips curled into an impish grin. The late afternoon carried a lulling song of crickets and cicadas, chirping and chirring in a hypnotic rhythm that matched her breathing. A muse never needed to sleep, although Storm found herself sighing and stretching her arms and her delicate wasp-like wings. Reclining onto the damp grass, she closed her eyes and her whole world buzzed and hummed. Absently laying there, allowing her long wild white locks to tangle in the weeds, her skin tingled as the warm air danced over her like a protective blanket.

     A crunch of the grass behind her suddenly interrupted her reverie and her eyes shot open. Drawing a quick breath, she sat up and looked behind her.

     “Who’s there?”
     

     The deep chuckle caused her pale flesh to prickle slightly, along with the hairs on the back of her neck. She swiveled around on the ground to face the visitor. Holding herself up on her arms and hands, her gaze travelled from a pair of sturdy brown boots that were unusually clean, to a pair of finely tailored silk black trousers and matching tunic. The man was built, if for nothing else, just for Storm to stare at openly and admire the well-defined muscles and expanse of chest beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Meeting his dark blue gaze, heat burned at her cheeks and he must have noticed because he grinned, brushing a strand of his jet black hair from his face. He extended a hand.

     “Alastor, M’Lady. I did not mean to startle you.”

     Storm continued to gawk, briefly looking at Alastor’s hand she quirked a brow. Leaning forward she sniffed his fingertips and when she was satisfied she greeted the man’s hand gesture by nuzzling her face in his palm.

     “I am called Storm.” She murmured.

     He smelled like burning amber, and before the scent had time to delight her senses completely, Alastor gave a start and pulled his hand away. Storm exhaled with a pout; a warm tingling like steam lingered on her cheek where his hand had been. He squatted down next to her. Wafts of that heady amber smell drifted into Storm’s nose and she smiled, lowering her eyelids lustily. Alastor blinked.

     “Well, Storm,” He cleared his throat pausing and drew his gaze over her body, “I have been watching you and I could not help but notice you have certain gifts.”

     Storm nodded her whole being suddenly filled with a rush of air and a grin spread on her face.

     “I am so glad you noticed!” She plucked one of the Dandelions and gently placed it on his knee. “Her name was Niam. She said she wanted to sacrifice herself for the cause of great friendship.”

     Storm sat back on her heels and captured Alastor with her swirling eyes. Holding onto her knees, the energy around her rocked her back and forth as she waited, licking her lips.
Alastor looked at the plucked flower and then at Storm. She saw his brow furrow, like he didn’t know what to do. Humans never knew how to handle these things. Pressing her lips together she hopped closer to him and reached for “Niam.” He stooped there perfectly still, watching her like a cat would a mouse.

     “Here. I’ll fix it for you, Sir.” She took the flower and stood, tucking the yellow puff carefully behind his ear.

     Her knuckles gently grazed his cheek, which felt like sandstone and radiating heat. His chuckle was like a trickle of warm water running down her spine and she shuddered, her wings vibrating for a brief moment. She was only a head taller until Alastor stood, straightening his powerful legs. The top of Storm’s tangled mess of hair was lucky enough to dust the man’s collar bone. She beamed brightly as her eyes surveyed her handiwork. He flourished a bow keeping his gaze locked on hers.

I was thinking about all my past eves of new years and I think I’ve been pretty boring this time of year for the majority of them... or possibly really drunk that I don’t remember.  My bet is on the former.  I used to drink more but I’m really a light weight when it comes to booze. Two strong beers and I’m on the table swinging panties around on my finger and I don’t even wear panties!

I can recall two or three that I remember.  One was spent with my stuffed animals and a 45 of Prince’s 1999. 

The other was a bit less innocent.  I was home on leave and attending a wild hotel party that my bestie was throwing.  Not much to tell... kissed a guy I met there.. we slept together.. made out... no sex.  I never saw him again.  My own choice.

One other New Years I spent ringing it in with a Dungeons and Dragons party... and the same guy who I had made blue with my food colored hair (that’s in a previous blog).  He broke up with me the next day. Yay!

This year ... 2018 ... has been full of challenges.  I’ve had surgery.  I lost an incredible Dom.  I moved.  I filed for bankruptcy.  I had to quit my Master’s degree program.  My son has been in and out of the mental ward. (He’s homeless right now).  It’s been ...rough.

I’m looking optimistically into 2019.  I’m evaluating my vanilla relationship and how I’ll go about breaking that up. The thought terrifies me.  My most recent Dom would tell me “Its not about strength”... and it really isn’t. It’s about heart.  Mine still hurts.  Less than before. I just need to hold it together.

I wish you all many blessings as we journey forth into this New Year.

Lots of love!!! And of course hugs and kitty snuggles! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The Muse

The guy I gave my virginity to... was the same guy I mentioned previously in my drunken Faerie story; the one who gave me all the great tips on giving good head. That guy.  

He and I remained “friends” or fuck-buddies, all through high school.  We’d sit together in civics and when the lights were off to watch a program, we’d get each other off in the back of the class room.  

He would step in and “comfort” me between boyfriends.  When the time was nearing for me to ship off to basic training... he was there to wish me “fair voyage”.

For what ever reason, sex was off the table that night.  I still wanted to enjoy him so I was going to give him a parting gift.  He thought it would be a great idea if we used some whipped cream.  I was all for that! Sounded like great delicious fun!

Now... I am not sure if I was drunk or what went through our minds but we didn’t have whipped cream.  The only thing available to us at that time was a can of Cheese Whizz.  

Its amazing how you can change one ingredient and a sexy tale becomes more of a comedy.  Fear not... He came and I enjoyed a mouthful of squirty cheese and him.

Milo seems to have the grin perfected...

Between the time I dropped out of college and joined the Army, I had a few light experiences involving some bondage but nothing long term or very impressionable.  I knew I enjoyed being bound and restrained.

Once I enlisted and completed basic training, I moved on to my advanced individual training (AIT).  I was studying to become an electronic warfare repair technician in the military intelligence school.  At that time, the school was located in Ft. Devens, Massachusetts, and the course was about a year long.  It was like college in many ways.

I met a guy there who shared my nerdy love of Dungeons and Dragons. We hit it off instantly.  He was extremely charming and he would sing to me.  He was also extremely passionate.  

He and I would have these small power exchanges... It was more or less a staring competition to see which one of us would give in to the other first.  This would start in the middle of our Dungeons and Dragons campaign, much to our party member’s ire... and last for hours... until we were alone in the game room, attacking each other on the table.

We could not get enough of each other. Every spare moment.  I had never had a guy perform oral sex on me quite like he did... ever.  This was a man who thoroughly enjoyed what he was doing.

I discovered that he was a little sadistic... but only mildly, and it went well with my mild masochistic tendencies at the time.  I enjoyed small amounts of pain (still do), as long as it is coupled with equal amounts of pleasure.  

I think he is the only guy I’ve ever allowed to smack me in the face.  Just enough to sting.  He was the first to ever torture my nipples.

This still was not a D/s relationship and I still had no idea what that really was at the time.  I think it is interesting to point out the way I would be so stubborn when it came to giving in.  We would stare for hours.  Sometimes he would come really close to kissing me... He would be a breath away from my lips just staring into my eyes. Then he’d back away.  

He left Massachusetts before I did and with his departure we really didn’t stay in touch after that.  I came to find out he was more of a “player” than anything.  I don’t think I was all that attached to him, to be honest.  Our tiny fleeting “thing” lasted mere months. Like two.  It was great fun though.

I’m not sure what is causing all of my crazy dreams as of late but this one was pretty wild.

It began in bed.  I was in bed with two other women and there was some playing around with a handheld electric mixer.  After awhile, my bedmates told me that the convention was about to begin.  My brain panned over to the next scene.

I was sitting in an auditorium with a rather normal looking crowd, ready for the hostess to appear on stage.  She was covered in this gold and white hood with a gold mask and wore a long gold and white gown.  She was a Domme.. and introduced herself as Lady ...something ... the name evades me.

I was enthralled by the entire ordeal.  She was discussing how the convention was going to play out... and we had to wait in the lobby of the hotel for room assignments.

Apparently we could have our choice... and I wanted a king size bed.  While I was waiting for the hotel manager and the desk clerk to stop arguing over what to do with used room keys (shred them or reprogram them)... I tossed a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

I got really distracted with their argument and confessed that it was perfectly fine if they give me a haunted room.  I was soon being scolded by EVERYONE about my burnt popcorn.  They had to open all the windows.  Everyone I passed gave me the stink eye.

Anyway... I woke up and THE END

Milo is very pleased with his gift! A shoe box with crinkly paper and a few bottle caps!  And lounging beneath the tree is my older sneezy chunky kitty, Jasper.

My night was plagued with a strange dream.

I wore no pants for the duration of it. Just my tee shirt. I started off at work. I’m not even sure what job it was because I did not recognize my coworkers or my superiors. I just knew that no one seemed to care or notice that I was naked from the waist down.

Naturally the best thing to do was to paint my coworkers nails and prepare to give them all pedicures. Because that is how a pantsless me…rolls… apparently.

I was soon interrupted by my immediate supervisor who wanted me to move an extra chair into the conference room. This required me to have to scale a fence and low-crawl through a door.

The scene suddenly changed! I was in a large bed. I am pretty sure the tee shirt was gone and I had a guy with me… I cannot say who it was because I do not recognize him. I couldn’t even tell you where his cock was but I had another cock that belonged to another man that may have been familiar sitting beside the bed. His cock was on a stick in my hand and decorated with a festive sock. He was instructing me to use it. It was nice and large and barely fit and I was complaining about the sock. I suggested that the sock should be removed.

I woke shortly thereafter. Somewhat frustrated!