For as far back as I can remember, I've had a Creed. "Do not ask of another what you would not do yourself."... In that Spirit and with a huge thanks to all you lovely ladies that have participated (or hopefully will) with showing off your Ass-ets:
Let's go Men, what's good for the Geese is good for the Ganders!
Encourage these women with your own confidence and Drop'm for the ladies! Let that full moon shine.
Max
Got on a bit late but try not to swoon, 🤣🤣
Take those damn shirts off men, nobody is expecting chiseled after 50. Be proud of your body.
Max
You can only use the word Asshole, once so I'm curious how many variations y'all can come up with 🤣
Enjoy and know I take no offense at anyone's pov of me.
Max
a couple days ago, I spoke of taming Elephants. I'd asked for what it said to you as an individual, if it had any similarities that you noticed in your own life. I also stated that I'd reveal the purpose today.
Unfortunately I tend to start writing and things take a life of their own and what was meant to be simplistic with a few nuggets of insight, became a five page write up in explicit details that would probably be more graphically terrorfying than most could handle. So to keep it from being likely yanked off the blog board. Here we are at the fourth attempt.
Keep in mind that what is being said does not apply to everyone. Everyone has different levels in their journey and I am only speaking from my experience and knowledge.
Much like the taming of elephants, society does the same damn thing, passing on the banner from generation to generation. From the moment we being to understand how to create movement we are in a taming process with "No" and "oh you so good" becoming our training. Is it a bad thing? Nah. People need structure and general consensual understandings in order to have any hope of society. As is evident in the current collapse of what we are seeing today. People desiring to redefine words to fit their own agenda instead of facing reality and moving forward with life... The reason we see such bullshit is our tolerance of stupidity, which has come about by removal of parents from teaching their children on critical thinking. When critical thinking is removed, the flow of questions and curiosity cease and that is the shackle holding us in place.
The majority of children are in a system, taught by strangers who are forced to teach what is told to them by a government beuricrate, whether they believe in it or not. If the child ask a question that could be counterproductive to the lesson, they are silenced. Politely or rudely doesn't matter in anything but how you are left "feeling", so long as ya shut up, sit down and fall in line. This isn't limited. It's the pier pressure, which is the sheep trying to force you to think how they do, speak like they do and follow blindly just like they do. The mom or dad that can't answer a question so instead of researching with the child so that all may grow, it turns to verbal abuse and "because I said so". I myself have done it with all of my four imps at some point. I'm tired from work, I don't feel good, I'm irritable and "because I said so" is the easy solution.
And this is the heart of it ... We have become a lazy people. It's the simple way to place an iron shackle on the ankle of an infant elephant and walk away. It'll figure it out in time.
At what cost?
It was ripped from its family that it witnessed being butchered. Forced to stand in place for hours or given a small enclosure to roam. Elephants are intelligent beings with a memory surpassing a human, so at what point do we think they stopped thinking?
At what point did we?
Removing the ability to question, leads to the inability to communicate, because silence learns nothing but self degradation.
"No question is a stupid question"... I call bullshit! There is no such thing as a stupid question that comes from a critical thinker, agreed. The younger the asker of questions, the less stupid they are because they come from a lack of experience and knowledge. But Critical thinkers consider multiple angles, logically determining that if the possible is removed from the equation then one must turn to what is seen as impossible and consider who what when where, why and how it's impossible. Then reverse engineer the situation. However critical thinking is a learned skill best taught to children. Instead we continue to do the same damn thing, regurgitating the same lines of bullshit and expect a result that is mind-blowing and life changing.
For some, when the ability to ask questions has been so far removed and they are left alone in silence for what is too long for them, outwardly they appear more docile and compliant but in some cases what is happening is they are learning the lesson of the unspoken language... A child not talking is still thinking but it's thinking things it's afraid to ask because of past treatment to previous questions.
When this happens the intentions no longer matter. The words, no matter how genuine, now have double meaning and someone is now the author and creator of psychological masochistic. The simple "I love you." Becomes cringe. If you love me, then why am I silenced? The twisting of the knife is when one is set up to fail... Asked to do a task unbefitting of their skill level and then turned into a verbal punching bag for failing. They go from asking too many questions to being "stupid, idiot", and any other degradation and humiliation that can be tossed on top.
The learning child goes into their teens and sometimes beyond, hearing the words and understands that this... Must be the truth. The reason they are silenced from questions is because they are too stupid and therefore the questions must be stupid. They must be the only one who even thinks so stupidly... And down the rabbit hole they go until something clicks inside the mind and the pain of neglect, abuse and abandonment becomes their life to which they clinge and find comfort in. To such a one, your pity is food for self degradation... If they was stronger, better, smarter, you wouldn't have pity for them, so they repeat the same words and do the same task because in reality they find safety and comfort in the treatment while at the same time they are trying to talk in an unspoken language crying out for help but what is given is the same shit they heard from those with the responsibility to teach them. If your words and actions are something you was taught as a child... Ask yourself, are these people fucking adults now? Think about what you're about to say. Are you talking to a child? Are you degrading them publicly, in their stupidity for not knowing what you see is obvious logic? Think critically. Break away from the shackles of society normal and do the unthinkable. Go into the mire where they are and talk their unspoken language... I understand what it looks like. To the outside world it's vulgar, abusive, and sometimes horrifying but THAT is where they live!
*Sighs and takes a moment.*
When Pity is food to fuel the reoccurring self degradation. Empathy is a motivator to repeat the cycle... All that kind, oshy goshy bullshit is a trauma bomb wrapped up in a pretty little box with a cute little bow...
Am I saying, Don't be you, in all your sensi talk? Fuck no. You do you because you never know who your words might land on in the right moment or the positive change that it may cause. So please do not stop being the empathetic voice calling from the light into the darkness. Do not stop with your sickening oshy goshy bullshit... Today may be the day that a hand appears from the darkness in an effort to hope again.
Who knows where I'd been without the empathy of Tygress or the sacrifice of the heart and body of Trembling Rabbit who's romantic fantasy was an endless barrage of oshy goshy bullshit.
What I ask is that you critically think before you speak. A psychological masochistic looks like any other down on their luck, bubble head who should know better.
I use to be one. I still struggle from time to time, but I evolved into a sadomasochist and was then pushed to hard by life and became a monster. I walk in the darkness, listening for those who speak the unspoken tongue, while honoring the few promises I have made to ghost. I have walked in darkness too long to endure the light, I acknowledge this but others do not have to be shackled as I once was... So every now and then, when I hear a voice calling out in the darkness, and a sprout of Fuck burst forth from the barren soil of my blackened borrowed soul... I go to where they can hear me and I extend a hand. I know it's ugly, it hurts your eyes to see but it is up to them, to take it. I appear scary to some, an asshole to others but am I? Or do we but speak in different languages while seeking similar goals of safely freeing just one elephant.
(Psst the answer is yes, I am an asshole... But not all the time. Sometimes I'm the cock looking for a little anal. 😘)
And to lighten the mood
Feel free to respond in the comments, bond or messages. I've stomped that little fucking sprout back down, pissed on it and lit the bastard on fire, but I do enjoy a good conversation all the same.
Max
Back in the day, elephants were tamed in a rather cruel methods so they could be used for a multitude of reasons. War, labor, entertainment, or just some fluff n puff king showing off his wealth and power. Part of this training was to drive a long metal stake or wooden log, deep into the ground. Fasten a metal shackle around a hind ankle and connect the stake to the shackle with a heavy chain. Everytime the Elephant would try to take a step forward the chain would go taunt, the shackle would bite into its flesh and in time it would form a pretty bad wound. The keepers would cleans it and apply herbs to help keep out infection and encourage healing but at no point did they remove the shackle. Not until the behemoth stopped harming himself and was tame to being touched and ridden. Afterwards a regular 1 inch thick twine rope was used as the shackle to a stake not even two feet in the ground. At any point it could pull that stake up or snap the rope with no more effort than taking the actual step. Why didn't it do so? It was broken. The slightest pressure around that ankle would trigger the memory of the iron shackle... It'd remember the pain and just stop moving.
However humans have a special brand of over inflated expectations coupled in double standards... If something happens to spook the elephant and it takes off in fear, it doesn't immediately realize that it is free, nor how simple it was to be free. Instead it tramples on, head long with fear, smashing and trampling anything in its way... Including any unfortunate human in the path of the fear induced flight.
In some cultures, if the elephant only destroyed property (including other animals), the owner of the elephant would be given a fine to pay and the beast of burden would be sent for retraining... Including the metal shackle. Elephants are smart creatures and it would figure out that the rope was nothing so they had to re-break the creature in order to keep the ideal of freedom from taking hold. If they couldn't re-break it, they'd kill the behemoth because once an elephant learns it can be free again, it won't forget.
Same situation but a human was killed... A fine was placed on the elephants owner and the elephant was killed. No discussion, no remorse. If an elephant knows it can overwhelm its captures, all humans become targets and THAT is unacceptable.
You may be curious as to when the training started because if it was already free and knew about freedom, wouldn't it fight to get out of captivity? Damn Skippy it would. Hunters would find a herd with several infants in it... Slaughter the heard, take the tusk and the infants and thus began its training... At the age of infancy.
As you reflect on the story, does something ring about in your mind that is relative to you? Do you see any similarities in today's world relative to how we function and operate in society?
Feel free to use the comment section for a novel if ya like but remember this is about how it relates to you personally. If you find you wish to blog the answer instead, feel free to use the title with "Challenge accepted."
Friday Feb 16th, I'll post my purpose for this blog and it's about learning along with personal growth possibilities. If for some reason you find something offensive that another person places in the comments... Keep it to yourself, everybody has the right to tell their tale in a way of which they connect. I do ask, however that you try not to use "fuck", ever other fucking word. 😂
It's been 24hr so here's the results:
For those with a short attention span
#3 is the Lie. I'm a slight germaphobe and can't have sex, protected or not, without seeing a Dr Report or knowing the person long enough to actually trust their word, and from a germaphobe standpoint, that's a long fuck'n time lol. However, if I knew 4 other furries, that shit would be on like donkey kong!
#1) I was somewhere between 16 - 18 and her parents didn't trust me to drive her to the movies and back without um... having car troubles. Little did they know that their lil girl was an exhibitionist and thrill chaser. The movie was the latest one we get and they were correct in assuming that we wouldn't have made it back home in time. We made it about 1/2 way through the movie when her hand fished my cock out and we started masturbating each other knowing that we had a couple two rows away from us. The theatre wasn't overly populated but at the time, just knowing we could get caught at any minute made my heart pound like a jackhammer. She had worn a skirt on purpose and ended up sitting on my lap for the slowest fuck I think I have ever had and much to her amusement... cuz she found it quite amusing to feel my whole body stiffened when she decided to do something that could get us fuck'n caught.. she slid off my cock covered in her juices and adjusted before slow bouncing her very tight, little ass down my cock. I must have made some noise because it wasn't but a few minutes later that bastard with the flashlight came in. The fastest pullout, tuck EVER! and gave us a warning, declaring that patrons were to sit in their individual seats. The movie finishes and we are still doing a lot of touch and feel, edging one another, while she's begging me not to cum... not yet.... she's just sooo thirsty. I'll hand it to her, she knew how to get what she wanted, and when we exited the theater her mom was waiting, a thunderstorm had started and they lived nearly thirty minutes away. We'd already done a lot of crazy shit with her family around, blissfully unaware of us doing some form of sexual act to one another but this was definitely the first time it was so close that I just knew her dad was going to shoot me when he found out! She was seated on the passenger side as we were in the back seat and she started out laying her head on my shoulder (Seat belts weren't required back then.) declaring she was exhausted and started to seemingly fall asleep, while her mom kept an eye on us through the rearview mirror. If she had just one time turned around and looked, she'd seen her daughter had fished my cock out once again and was slow stroking me, and to be honest, I thought that was all she was going to do.. just another edging to make me dance and sweat in trying NOT to cum. I'd given her an Oscar for the way she faked sleeping and slowly slid down my chest to lay her head in my lap. It was then, I was torn between wigging the fuck out and being forced to act like NOTHING WAS HAPPENING!... O M G! The girl loved her cock worship and mid-way home, I got to cum for the first time.. five minutes later the second time, and after the fifth time, she stopped trying to drain me... there wasn't anything left! I thought she had sucked my left nut through my cock and was holding it for ransom in her cheek! She stayed in my lap the rest of the drive home and when we got out of the car I nearly fell over laughing. Not because of the fantastic cum heist she'd pulled off, but because she skipped around the car, now that the rain had stopped, splish-splashing through the puddles, happy as could be.. and kissed her mom right on the mouth before giggling as she ran off inside for bed.
#2) About a year or two before I met ^AngelBunny^ I was going through some troubling times, dating anybody willing to meet up with me and I do mean dating, not fucking. I was still hurting over TR and to be honest, I really didn't care who I was with, so long as I wasn't alone. I'd even bring dates home to sleep with me and be that "honorable man" who wouldn't have sex on the first date. Hold them through the night, treat them to breakfast, and most likely never see them again. My headspace was dangerous, Beast was being Beast as he loves to torment me at my weakest mental times... making things seem tempting that I would normally toss his ass in our mental cage and tell him to suck a bag of goat dicks. The woman I was dating was the literal "Psycho bitch" type. Anything that involved pain was welcome and when they discovered Beast, shit got bloody. (Remember, germaphobe... No sex until I saw the reports!) So there was this one who we were casually dating, almost like fuck buddies but a little more than that. She was great about staying on her meds and if she was late in taking them, I noticed and reminded her.. however when the meds run out and you've been having a 48hr fuck fest, you don't really notice shit like you should. We'd fallen asleep after another cock torturing session cuz her holes were so swollen it was hard to get it in, even with lube... everything was fine and she'd passed out laying on my chest. She wasn't even Five foot tall, a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet so to me, it was nothing, barely noticed her presence. Dunno when it happened but here I am blissfully asleep feeling a light stabbing in my chest that kinda woke me up but not really... then her forearm pressed my neck but as I said, she was just a lil shit and her weight wasn't on the arm. Besides, it wasn't the first time she'd been rough with me so to my extremely groggy mind, same shit, different day, right up to *CLICK CLICK* as the hammer was pulled back. A tap of cold steel pressed against my forehead and THAT woke me up. I opened my eyes slowly, almost like a child peeking to see if the parents were still in the room and that's when I heard her having a very passionate discussion. I focused on what she was somewhat talking... but sometimes whispering to me.. umm.. NOPE, she wasn't talking to me. When I heard "you know he's fucking other women, kill his cheating ass..." I decided to get involved and just followed my instinct.
"hey babe... How's she doing today?" I was well aware of her "friend"
"She said you are fucking around on me!" Presses the gun against my forehead harder.
"and what does she base this on?" I asked as calmly as I possibly could, all too aware that her finger was on the trigger.
"We saw her! We saw that bitch last night!" She declared as her face became even more red but that didn't make any sense... we had been alone for the past 48hrs.
"Babe..." I said sternly "Where was you last night? Remember riding my cock like the little porn star you are?" My hands went slowly to her waist and I started to mock grind her some. Yes, I was using her fantasies to be in Porn against her but it was at this moment that I'm realizing I have more worth living for than what I had been acting like for way too fucking long.
"NO NO NO NO NO, We saw it! We saw it in our dream!" -_- What... The fuck.
I'm pretty sure I deadpanned at that moment... how the hell was I going to convince a woman who seriously needed her meds, that her dream wasn't a premonition?? A Dream is many times JUST A FUCKING DREAM!
So I did what any good therapist would recommend... I blinked my eyes, looked confused, and sat up on my elbows fully aware that this may get my skull a new ventilation window.
"In your dream? Really? That's fucking amazing babe... Tell me about it, would you?" I don't know if it was the way I was saying it or the fact that she was just batshit crazy but she removed the gun from my head, laying it on my chest as she sat up on my torso (still in her hand, still hammer pulled back, still pointed at my neck) looking at me a little confused.
"Really? You want to hear about my dream?"
"Of course I doooo.. You know I love it when you talk about your dreams. They are fascinating!" or batshit crazy but I'm going with fascinating right now as I continue to focus all my calm acting skills on a lady who at any minute might be distracted by her friend, so not letting that opportunity happen, I press ever forward.
"You know what would be great right now? Pancakes. You know with the brown sugar mix that I make? Whatda think? I'll cook them up and you can tell me all about it." I think at this point I was a bit happy that she was so predictable about breakfast foods.
"That sounds GREEEAT", she says as she kicks her legs around, slides off my torso, and puts the gun on the desk to head for the kitchen. She liked to cook with me and I know I'm a good cook but how fuck'n good is your cooking that a person with a gun to your head, talking to a dark fae that hates you, forgets what the fuck is going on just for pancakes?!? Hell yes! Mine are no fucking where that good, but to her they were. I got up behind her, quickly lowered the hammer of the gun, and dumped the shells into the top drawer while taking it with me where I placed it up on top of the cabinet. She's not even Five feet tall... no way she's getting it back. When we got to the kitchen I got her pills and reminded her to take them as though nothing had happened, made the pancakes, talked about her dreams, talked about a few other things, and ate her pussy like my life depended on it cuz um yeah, med don't kick in immediately and I wanted her asleep ASAP... I have WAY too many blades in my house to take chances.
While yes, I probably should have called the cops. I knew she was Mentally Ill and required her meds. I didn't so much as feel bad for her as much as I didn't want to ruin her life over forgetting to take her meds. When she's on them, she's... yeah still batshit crazy but at least not dangerous 🤣🤣 I did love my Psycho Bitches!
Did I see her again? FUUUUCK NO!
I've lived an adventurous life so for me it was trying to figure out what is a Lie that's not so obvious. Thank you Pure for the challenge!
1) Mid teens: received a blow job to completion in the backseat of my girlfriends, Mom's car... While Mom was driving and glancing at me in the rear view.
2) Woke up to a pissed off girlfriend holding a .380 snub-nosed to my forehead while talking to herself on whether to pull the trigger.
3) Went to a Furry convention and ended up in a 5 way Furry orgy at a nearby hotel.
Once you stop laughing, feel free to figure out which one is the lie.
Good luck!
Max
The following story and characters have all rights reserved and are fictional writing of my own imagination and/or experiences.
Clan Wars Ch5, Bear Cubs
As Beast strode through the cavern chamber, which was partially lit by the still-burning fires of the troll's discarded torches, Kah struggled to find her feet. The dirt of the cave mixed with pebbles bit at her flesh every time she fell because her Master didn't slow in the least.
I'm not made of steel!" She said loud enough for him to hear while trying to dig her heels into the dirt. Beast pulled her forward and lifted her off the ground by the chains. His head tilted in curiosity as he perked a brow questioningly.
"Uah" he grunted, lifting her higher and spinning her from side to side, as he inspected the dirt-covered scraps along her hips and legs.
"I'm not like you, Master. My body hurts. My wounds don't heal in seconds, and I feel like my arms are going to pop from their sockets." She was too sore to put up much of a fight but he didn't seem to be the mindless, lumbering brute the trolls were. "Please.. set me down and let me walk at my pace." She looked at him pleading with her eyes. "I won't run."
Beast inhaled her scent, making Kah that much more aware of her nakedness from the waistline to her hide shoes. Without warning, he set her down as though her descent was an idle thought. The impact to her feet made her grimace and buckle to her knees but she wasn't about to complain because he did what she'd asked. Sighing softly she struggled to get back to her feet. She wasn't exaggerating about her body being sore, a quick glance down her arms confirmed the blueish-purple skin, everywhere close to the chains. She wished he would take them off but she was trying to heed Max’s insistence to leave them on. As though he was reading her mind, Beast pulled the end link of the chain loose.
"Wait!" Nearly panicked at the thought of this being a test. "Wh…" she began to question, uncertain if she should ask. Sighing again she gathered the courage and laid a bruised hand on his claw that was halted in the chains. "May I ask, why?" She requested humbly.
Cocking his head slightly, he nudged her gently against the breast with the back of his hand. "Mine." He said flatly. Kah blushed and felt awkward under his attentive gaze.
"I thought Max was a man of few words…" she mumbled flippantly, instantly regretting it as she found herself face first on the ground, the weight of one hand holding her chains down while the other spanked her ass till she screamed in pain and tried to wiggle away from the stinging strikes. A searing pain flashed across her ass cheeks as he intentionally used the back of his nails like a cane pole, to force her into begging for forgiveness. "Sorry, sorry, sorry" she sang in quick succession. "I won't do it again!" Instantly the discipline paused and she could hear his deep growl of frustration or anger.
"Dooo wha?" He asked as the verbal sounds reverberated in his throat, mixed with the gravelly tone of his voice. His merciless eyes bore into her tear-streaked ones as he waited for her answer.
"Speak." She said, before cowering as his hand drew back and his growl became so fierce that the anger he radiated made her body hurt all the more with tension.
"SASS!" She corrected and buried her head between her arms.
"Uah!" He agreed, lowering his hand to cup her under the chin and guide her back to her feet. His hands and claws were too big to make quick work of unwinding the chains but she waited patiently. She struggled to not wince or squeak in pain as the last of the chain was pulled from the indentations in her skin and the shackles were released to fall to the ground. The metal had cut into her skin and now she could see the extent of the damage. She pulled her arms close, trying to find a way to cradle them but every move made it hurt all the more. Beast held his massive hand out and tentatively she lay her hand into his. In one swift motion, the claw from his other hand slashed down the length of her arm, opening the swelling purple skin like fileting a fish. Before she could flinch her hand back, he snapped his hand shut like a trap, using his thumb to pin her palm in place. Her self-preservation instincts were no match for his speed as he swept her feet and forced her face-first to the ground while extending her arm behind her. He growled fiercely, applying a little force toward the shoulder of the trapped arm, ending her struggle. Then his sandpaper tongue flashed out, wrapping around the arm like a hummingbird gathering nectar as it darted back and forth into his mouth. The sting gave way to a warm, numbing sensation and when he let her go, he sat back on his haunches, holding his hand out once again, and waited… watching.
Instinctively she pulled her arm back, cradling it to herself, feeling betrayed and even more hurt than she already was. [How could he!] She shouted in her mind while crying from the trauma. "Whyyy" she whined through sobbing tears. "What did I do?!" His only response was to tilt his head in curiosity. "You're not that stupid Beast!" She fumed, causing him to perk a brow. "That was just mean!", she continued as she found courage in her anger. "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?! I TRUSTED YOU!" pushing to her feet she went to swat his hand away but he caught it and held her solid. Try as she might she couldn't pull away and the bastard started laughing!!
"LET GO OF ME!" she demanded in anger. Instead, he pulled her into himself, spinning her around to end up with her back to his torso, and her own arm being held up before her eyes.
Kah batted her eyes trying to clear the tears and make sense of the pale flesh that had replaced the swollen purple, chain marks. Like a painter using random strokes the pale skin of healing turned pink, being chased by the light mocha skin tone of her race. "H… How?.." she asked bewildered as he let her hand go so she could examine it better. All the pain was gone, as though the chains had never been there. His hand gently pressed under her, still-wounded arm and raised it up, locking his pinky and thumb around her palm. Kah looked up into his ember-burning eyes to find him still perking his brow. It took her a moment to realize he was waiting for her to come to terms… she blushed and nodded her consent. Shame, embarrassment, and a flood of other emotions raced through her and she wanted to say something but feared the words would just come out in a blubbering sob. She held as still as possible, grabbing a small gasp of air as his claw slashed her wounded arm open but this time she watched as he raised it over her head so he could watch her right back. His tongue darted just like before, leaving that same warm and numbing sensation as she watched his tongue seemingly draw the purple tones into pale white, chased by pinks and back to the light mocha of her skin tone. The slash itself was last to mend, almost like he was willing the process to heal her.
"H…" she started to form the question but his finger touched her lips, giving her pause. The hand that held her to him pulled them apart and slowly spun her back to face him before scooping her off the ground with both hands, holding her out before him like a father does his children. His eyes searched hers in the silence as she studied his. He tucked his muzzle to his chest and pitched her slightly forward. Following a sense, almost like a feeling of being guided through her emotions, she spread her arms around his head and lay her forehead to his… a rumble of peace vibrated through him as his once fierce growl, now took a different tone. Peace, happiness, and contentment seemed to come to life in gentle rolls of color in her mind. Images of sunsets sprung from her memory, reminding her of younger days when she would watch them… those days before being a captive forced into slavery. She followed her senses, kissing him on the forehead. "Forgive me, Master," she whispered. "I didn't know… I didn’t trust."
No audible answer came, Beast adjusted her onto his shoulder and started for the tunnel.
[I guess the how and why don't really matter.] She thought, wiping a tear away. [He doesn't waste words. He does or he does not.] A smile quirked her lips. [I'll always know where I stand and I can live with that.] As she exhaled, letting go of her worries, fears, and mixed emotions, he patted her knee and stepped into the darkness like he owned the shadows.
……………………..Tamarack of Frost Bear Clan……………….
In the dark tunnel that led to the chamber of which Beast and Kah were, another watched with curiosity until they no longer felt safe to watch, and silently as they appeared, they retraced their steps. Tamarack was part of the lower class of the Frost Bear society. His adolescent bear skin cloak was mangey with small bald spots along its length that ran from his knees to the nape of his neck, leaving the hollowed skull to sit awkwardly on his head. It was his duty to feed the Trolls but when he reached their cave he’d found it empty, which he didn’t mind. The Trolls liked to toss him about and push him around as though he was their play toy. He’d left the food and was about to head back to the clan when he heard the commotion and went to investigate. Upon arrival, he saw the first two already dead and something unknown to him, chewing on the neck of the third. The hairs on the back of his neck pricked up, leaving a sense of impending doom to rush through him. Whatever could kill three trolls wasn’t worth his life to stick around and challenge. He wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t a seasoned warrior either and knew the better option was to run back for the Claw clan, which is the warrior sect of Frost Bears Tribe. He stayed long enough to gather information, though he couldn't make out everything being said. He was about to leave the safety of the thick and worn stalagmite he was hiding behind when the sounds of pleasured moaning caught his attention and tempted him for one more glimpse.
His stature in the clan meant that finding a mate would be impossible for many years to come so listening was one of the few pleasures he could hope for. Peeking cautiously he beheld what he could only comprehend as a demon, holding a woman to its muzzle and driving its tongue deep inside her. To him, it was as alluring and erotic as it was frightening and vile to watch a demon violate the woman. He didn't wait for her throws of ecstasy as he used the distraction for his best opportunity to get back to the tribe. It would take him the better portion of the night to make the distance, even in a full run but as his mind raced in mixed terror and curiosity, It didn’t seem as long as he jogged the luminescent tunnel of glowing mushrooms that sporadically grew along the cave walls. The illumination refracted off the cold water stream that he followed, giving just enough light to be able to see without his torch which he’d left at the Troll cave, fearing the demon would see its glow and come after him. The large tunnel dipped and turned to open up into one of the Tribes' main water sources… a huge cavern with a rope bridge suspended from stalactites that also held torches over the cave lake.
There were a few low levels like himself gathering water and trying to catch the elusive fish by a few large braiser’s lights, and like himself, part of the Phemyr clan. The Phemyr clan consisted of general laborers, the backbone of Frost Bear society. From the time of birth to the nineteenth season of Spring, all those in the Frost Bear Tribe started life in the Phemyr clan, raised by the wet nurses whom they called mother bears. During the Spring of their nineteenth season, they entered into the year of separation wherein they could choose their destiny. Be placed in the Claw clan, who trained the warriors and hunters sect of Frost Bear Tribe, join into Skullins clan by showing aptitude for the mystical arts or knowledge of herbs and healing, or stay as part of the Phemyr clan. The three clans were dedicated to the Great Mother Bear, who ruled the clan and yielded the firstborn cub to every head of each clan. She was the most skilled among the females of every clan, being trained in all three clans until she ascended to the matriarchy or fell to the earth in their last breath. So sacred is the position that a Celebration of Finding was held every ten seasons wherein all the girls of the same ten seasons of age would gather and compete to find who among the clan had the ability to fight, cast spells, heal, and for all their tenacity, humble themselves to serve all three clans without bias.
As he made it halfway across the bridge, he could make out a couple of Bear Claw warriors who would be expected to escort the Phemyrs, for protection against the random snake, bats, or anything that would manage to slip by the Trolls. Though that was rare, it still happened now and then.
“Hail, Sons, and Daughters of Blizzard!” A formal greeting that applied to all sects of the Clan.
“Hail, Tamarack, Son of Blizzard!” The highest-ranked warrior among the group, Ezgret, responded. “What’s eating at your heels?”
“The Trolls are dead,” Tamarack said when he was closer.
Both warriors drew their bone and metal-mixed swords, which the lower warriors were given as a sign of their status. Those fishing quickly drew in their random lines or stayed their spears while the others finished what they were doing and waited for Tamarack to completely cross the bridge so he could tell them what was going on.
“There's a demon… nearly the size of the trolls themselves,” He said, panting at the edge of the bridge.
“What do you mean by a demon?” Ezgret asked.
"Twice my height," using his arms to measure "easily ten foot tall and half as much, shoulder to shoulder." Tamarack gulped down a couple of breaths of air. "It's not like anything I've ever seen!"
Ezgret gave a doubtful look to his fellow warrior but instead of verbalizing it, he ordered the lower members to take the catch of fish and jugs of water back to the tribe with all haste and report the matter to all the respected sects.
"Let us go see this demon," Ezgret said almost mockingly. "Bear doesn't raise cowards, right Jix?!"
Jix and Ezgret were both well-built men close to twenty-one seasons old and much like all those in the Bear Claw sect, they sought to prove themselves so they could advance as warriors and join the raiding parties. The three fishers were about Tamarack's age, ranging fifteen to eighteen seasons with little to prove and even less ambition to see any demon.
Jix slammed his fist to the chest and shuffled in place, eager and ready to go with his clan brother. "Nothing comes into our Den unchecked!"
Tamarack looked to the fishers before speaking up. "We'll keep the bridge and wait for the others to come." Accepting one of several throwing spears from a fisher.
Ezgret and Jix agreed as they started across the bridge with Ezgret glancing back to Tamarack, "If it gets past us and the Bear Claws haven't arrived, burn the bridge."
Tamarack nodded and watched as the two jogged across the bridge and into the tunnel's darkness, hoping the Bear Claw sect would be swift in arriving while sending up a silent prayer to their god Ulgma, Father of the snow storm.
Ezgret and Jix slowed to a stalker's pace once within the luminance of the glowing mushrooms, using their year's worth of training to watch the darker shadows and listen for anything unfamiliar within the tunnels. They were both skilled at hunting, and it was those skills that earned them the trust to be the escort detail of the Phemyrs.
“Demon…” Jix whispered in light mock. “Them damn Trolls fight among themselves so often that they most likely killed each other and a Snow Ape was gnawing off a chuck to keep from starving.”
“Yeah, most likely Tamarack panicked and ran off without even understanding what he was looking at,” Ezgret whispered back with a roll of his eyes. “Coward couldn’t even control those dim wits.”
“We’ll bag its head, and prove ourselves to be more than just hunters” Jix whispered with a grin before going silent once again and focusing on the task at hand.
By the time they came within range of the Troll's cave, the whole story that had been told to them had evolved into complete disbelief of any demon. Still, they slowed their approach, resuming the stalking nature of a hunter as they crouched in their advance from one stalagmite to the next and resorted to hand signals. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except the silence. Trolls are noisy creatures even when they sleep so at least that part of the story must be true. Cautiously Ezgret peered into the troll’s sleeping cave where only the low light of a troll campfire illuminated the room. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary but as they entered they could make out the shape of two forms lying on a thick stack of furs that the trolls had used for bedding. Ezgret motioned for Jix to separate off to the right so they could hinder the intruders from escaping.
“Are you gentleman lost also?” Came a melodious voice, giving both hunters a pause. One of the figures slowly rose from the bedding and stirred the campfire back into life while the other seemed to lie asleep.
Jix and Ezgret gripped their swords and readied for a fight but the stranger didn’t advance or even seem aggressive. They passed confused looks between each other… “I knew Tamarack was talking shit.” Said Ezgret who didn’t take his eyes off this man who stood peaceably before them.
“So you do understand me,” the man said as went to move closer, causing both men to adjust into a defensive stance. “You won’t need those weapons, gentlemen. We mean you no harm and are just trying to find a way out of this labyrinth of a cave.” Max said, keeping a relaxed look about himself.
“Who are you and how did you find yourself here?” Ezgret demanded.
“I… am Maximilien but please, call me Max. That one there,” motioning to the one on the bed, “is Kah, my mate.” His pale skin seemed to shimmer in the torchlight as he motioned for them to lower their weapons. “We are not looking for a fight. As I said, we are only looking for a way out… peaceably if possible?.”
“Where are the trolls?” Ezgret demanded once again without lowering his guard.
“Further down the tunnel, in the large chamber at the end,” Max replied calmly “I assume they were your pets?”
“Hardly pets,” Ezgret stated. “Are they dead, as we were told?” Max nodded confirmation as Jix adjusted his stance so he could watch the entrance. Tamarack had only mentioned the demon, of which neither of these two was but if there were two, there might be more still in the cavern with the dead trolls.
“Did you two kill them?” Ezgret asked, still weary of the strangers.
Max chuckled and waved his hands dismissively “Oh heavens no.” He said, letting the two hunters come to their own conclusions. “They were dead before I arrived,” he spoke truthfully. “Kah and I were fleeing a creature we believed to be stalking us when we descended into that cavern, though obviously, it was a trick of the snowstorm and our overactive imaginations.” Max continued with a humorous shrug as he approached the bed once again and squatted down to give Kah a light shake. “We have company Kah, but don’t be alarmed… these gentlemen are just looking for answers.”
Kah, whom Max had woken when he first smelled the hunters approaching from the tunnels, sat up and scanned the two before quickly giving Max a desperate look of pleading. [Well done, Kah. Just like I’d asked when I originally woke you.] Max thought, nodding to her silent communication, and continued as though everything was normal. "Are you two hungry?" He asked the hunters. "It's not a feast nor is it the best I've eaten, but it'll fill your bellies." Max pointed to a hand cart full of various scraps of meat and vegetation on the border of spoiling.
"We're not here for troll scraps!" Ezgret snapped. "Get up and go back the way you came." Motioning towards the entrance with his sword." We need to see the trolls for ourselves before we can decide what to do with you two." Trying to be sly he glanced at Jix with a slight grin and wink.
Max sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose as he became irritated with these two hunters.
[Kill them] Beast grumbled from the darkness within Max's mind.
[We don't have to kill everything.] Max responded back to Beast in their mental communication.
Kah placed her hand in Max's and pulled herself up to give him a peck on the cheek and a quick whisper "Frost Bears." Thankfully she had fashioned herself a short skirt out of the furs but she still felt naked as she caught the way Jix was eyeing her. "Cannibals." She whispered as she and Max stood.
"Well fuck…" Max murmured as Beast manically laughed in delight. "So much for diplomacy," Max said a bit louder, using his arm to guide Kah behind himself. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Max asked calmly while glancing from Ezgret to Jix. He had been seizing them up since the moment they walked through the entranceway, noticing Jix was most likely the more formidable opponent of the two but clearly, neither was used to killing strangers.
"MOVE! NOW!" Ezgret barked, ignoring the question.
Max felt his blood rush hot as he pulled on Beast's vampiric magic, his eyes locked onto Ezgrets as he could feel his fangs sliding from their sheath. "As you wish…" Max said with a sinister smile, flexing his fingers as talons ripped from his nails. Before Jix's heart made its next beat, Max had crossed the distance and severed the man's head nearly from his shoulders in a brutal slash that splatter painted the side of Ezgret,
"Your mistake…" Max said as though nothing was wrong. He paused for a moment to enjoy watching Ezgret visibly shake while trying to comprehend what just happened. Max inhaled the man's fear and licked his fangs in delight and lust which only served to heighten the aroma as Ezgret finally realized he was going to die. In the next blink, Max stood behind him, one hand staying the man's sword arm while the other held talons to his throat. "You should have been clear in what you demanded," Max whispered and plunged his fangs into the exposed artery of Ezgret's neck. The paralysis venom Max injected was instantaneous, freezing Ezgret where he stood with only the ability to feel his blood and essence being drawn from his body. Ezgret’s skin left its living pallor and became a death blue hue, while Max locked eyes on Kah, who stumbled back and fell on the bed.
The sound of Ezgrets body hitting the floor was the only warning Kah had before finding herself pinned beneath Max, legs spread, and the feel of his cock pulsing against her. His musky scent washed over her and she was caught between pleading for her life and surrendering to his lust. "Mu, mu, Max?" She squeaked out the question, unsure of why he would attack her while his musk intoxicated her mind and pulled at her lust. She felt him slowly grind against her, causing her body to respond and stir her desires. A growl of anger boiled up through his chest, his fist slammed the bedding beside her head and as suddenly as he had been on her, he vanished into the shadows across the room. The sound of the cave wall being hit was followed by the sickening sound of bones shattering, and flesh being crushed into rock, time and again till the hits became soft and mushy.
Kah could hear him breathing heavily in ragged gasps and she wasn't sure what to do. Cautiously she made her way to the edge of the shadows.
"Max?" Her voice was low and uncertain.
"I'm fine." He growled though she could tell his words were forced.
"Max… tell me what to do." She said, chewing her lip as her mind raced to figure out what she had done wrong to cause such a reaction.
"Nothing, Kah…" he responded, as he rolled his shoulders and walked towards her. She could hear the faint sound of bones snapping and cracking in the silence between them as he approached. When he stepped from the shadows, she noticed his fingers twisted and misconfigured, popping back into place one bone at a time. His arm and chest were covered in blood, though whether it was his or that of the hunters, she wasn't sure.
"Gather the weapons and their bearskin cloaks. We need to be gone before their friends arrive," he commanded and headed to the entrance without waiting to see if she understood.
Kah gave a quick nod and raced to do as commanded, lastly taking up a heavy torch by the handle end and dragging it towards him.
"Leave it," Max said. "You won't need the torch. I can see a soft blue glow down the tunnel." He then twisted back towards her and held out his now-healed hand to her as she dropped the torch. She took ahold of his hand and shuffled her burden that threatened to fall to the ground.
Max looked at her hand then back to her eyes and flatly spoke. "I'm not him. Give me a damn sword and cloak, Kah." His eyes were as emotionless as his words and Kah felt embarrassed, pulling her hand away and rendering his request.
She wanted to know what she did wrong, her insecurities ate at her like vultures on a corpse but this Max was truly scary. For now, she would just have to deal with her own demons and wait for him to speak.
His only kindness was when he tied his cloak around his waist and gave her the end to hold onto as she stumbled behind him until they came to the luminous mushrooms. She was unsure how long they walked in silence but to her, it felt like an eternity. She noticed the subtle changes in his stride as they became slower and more fluid with a slight swagger of confidence but still, she held her tongue while a thousand questions raced through her head.
[Talk to me!] She screamed in her mind. [I ca…]
And as though he read her mind he spoke softly. "Tell me what you know about this Frost Bear people."
She thought about what she could remember and drew a cleansing breath.
"What I know is that they come out of the mountains near the end of the changing season when leaves fall. They come to raid villages and take supplies and captives. It's rumored that the captives are used for food to get their tribe through the winters." She said, feeling slightly better at being able to speak and break the silence between them.
"And?" He ushered in his melodious voice, making Kah smile slightly at hearing it once again.
"And it's said they can shapeshift into bears so always be cautious around any bear as you don't know if it's a real bear or a shapeshifter waiting in ambush." She finished, slightly proud of having some knowledge that may be useful.
"Shouldn't you always be cautious around bears, to begin with? Real or shapeshifter?" He asked in curiosity that rang slightly with sarcasm.
After a slight pause of her bubble being popped, Kah replied "Well, yes but.."
"But I think your village was good at controlling you by fear and fabrications," Max stated while cutting her off.
"Uh Noo" she retorted. "It's a known fact that they eat their captives and can shapeshift."
"Have you seen it? Any of it?" He asked once again at the very edge of sarcasm and arrogance.
"Well no, but it's common knowledge!"
"Common knowledge by what proof?" He asked, never turning around to look at her.
"I don't know, it just is." She replied, feeling a bit miffed. "Besides, nobody ever returns if they are captured and their Den is littered with bones all around its entrance!"
Max chuckled, sounding truly humored by the conversation. "If nobody has ever returned, then how do you know about the captives being eaten and their bones being littered about the tribe's den?"
"Are you always such an ass?!" She shot back.
"No," he calmly replied, "sometimes I sleep." Stunning her to silence for a second.
"Fuck you, Ma.." his sudden movement had her snatched by the hair with her head drawn back and neck fully exposed.
"Be careful what you say, Kah" he hissed in her ear, menacingly. "Your words are uncontrolled and flippant, but they are your words left to be perceived by any who hears them."
Her toes had curled to the gruff treatment of her hair being pulled and her moan was silenced by the sound of his tone. She didn't understand why her body responded as it did but she couldn't deny the instant wetness that had rushed her mound.
"Saying the wrong flippant words when I've fed may cost you more than you intended… much like that stupid hunter cost him and his partner's life by not designating where he wanted me to move… now." He growled before sniffing the air as her scent caught his attention.
Max spun her away from him using her hair to guide her direction away. "And control your fuck cunt! Those offers you give may be taken against your will…" His visage returned to its cold demeanor and his words were bitter. "I'm a monster… Not by my choice, but I still have to live with the things I do, the people I kill, and the vile actions I take when I'm taken in bloodlust." He then spun back to the path and began a soldiers-like peace down the tunnel.
Kah blinked a few times while her mind raced with new questions. She hurried to catch back up and followed along silently for a bit, gauging her words.
"Master… May I ask a question?" She asked meekly, hoping her reading of his softening stride was correct in his temperament. Max sighed lightly as he wondered how much longer this tunnel could be. They had seen several side caves and another tunnel that lead off in another direction but the lack of disturbed dirt gave an indication that it most likely wasn't an exit in those directions.
"Yes, Kah.." the sound of exasperation in the two words.
"Is that what happened back in the troll cave?... you were taken in bloodlust?" She asked.
After a tense minute of silence, Max responded "Yes." Nothing more.
She thought for a few minutes, seeing the evidence of how the question made him irritable. "Will you tell me what it's like, this bloodlust? As in, what does it feel like and what kind of effect does it have on you?"
He stopped in his tracks and paused for a moment, causing Kah to flinch and second-guess the wording of her question. When he took his next steps she could tell this was not a subject he was comfortable with. His steps were shallow and slowed like a person caught in memory.
"I'm not sure I can completely explain it, but as best as I can, it's like a rush of heat comes over me and builds till it burns in my veins." He paused a moment in thought. "Like water boiling, but inside my body, coursing through my body and though it hurts for all of its intensity there's a craving that chases it, saying that life essence will stop the hurting. Blood carries this life force throughout the body and the monster within me howls for it so I yield to the call and listen for the beat of a heart. I know it will feed the magic I use to do whatever is necessary but nothing comes without a cost, so it then becomes a balance of weights… take what I need to do what needs to be done while stopping myself before the monster mind can deceive my mind and override my will. However, that balance is difficult… that line is very fine and the allure is so seductive that I sometimes can't tell if I really need more or if it's just the monster mind craving to be set free and cause utter destruction. Its desire is to kill, rape, torment, or cause suffering. Or is it... I who desire it, while being blinded by blood lust. The more I consume the more I long for it, till I become intoxicated and blinded in a red haze from being engorged with energy, which usually means my Monster has gone on a killing spree. When it finally subsides, slowly the lust begins to eat at me, like an itch under the skin that you just can't scratch but you'll remove flesh in trying."
They walked again in silence while Kah tried to imagine and absorb what she heard.
"Was you or rather, that monster version of you… going to… rape… me…" the words seemed to catch in her throat and though part of Kah, wanted to know, the other wanted to stay blissfully ignorant.
Max's fist clenched and he turned to face her, visibly trying not to become enraged. "Yes, Kah." He said through gritted teeth. "I, He, we, it… was going to rape and fest on you."
Her chin hit her chest and her fingers fidgeted under her bear skin cloak. "But… what if I didn't mind?..." she said in nearly a whisper, then realized her mistake and quickly added "Not the rape part, but the uh... you being, in… me." Gulping lightly she pushed the issue. "I felt your cock and I pressed my mound against you… willingly." Her eyes stayed fixated on the ground.
"But were you willing or do you just think you were because of the seduction musk I produce?" He asked flatly.
"Huh?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What musk?"
"Tell me Kah, do you fantasize about me? Daydream about my cock inside of you? Do you have those… feelings… of want, desire, lust, need, passion, and longing all mixed up in butterflies in your guts, when you think of me?"
Again she looked at him confused without answering.
"No?... then don't you find it strange, that when I'm… intense… with you, you suddenly have such an urge that your fuck cunt gets all creamy?" He said cruelly "It's the fucking musk, seducing your senses to force you to desire me, and THAT,... is not… free will."
She flinched slightly at the way he said it all but she closed her eyes and spoke a very meek, “But you didn’t.”
Which was followed by silence and then a low growl, “But I could have and there was nothing you could do to stop me.”
“But you didn’t” she repeated
Max stepped in with his talons out but Kah went to her knees, bowing her head with her hair draped to one side. “Go ahead Master… do it. Take your anger out on me, but it won’t change the fact that you are a monster with a noble heart. You do bad things because you’re a monster. You speak cruelly to keep me at bay because you’re a monster, so beat me… Slash me open and feast upon my soul if you so choose.” Her tears began to drip into the dirt. “You have given me more safety in the short few days that we have been together than what I have had in all of the seasons of life. You didn’t have to pack me on your back to jump blindly down into depths that broke your very bones, but you did it anyway because you knew I’d never make it on my own. You didn’t have to jump down to fight those trolls, I’ve seen your speed. You could have easily outrun them and most likely been to the end of this cave by now but instead, you jumped and let Beast out.” She glanced up without raising her head and saw his legs just a hand width from her head before continuing. “You could have talked your way out of that whole situation with those hunters, lured them back to the trolls, and vanished into the shadows, Master… I have been watching you. You could have done all those things but to keep me safe, you didn’t.”
Taking the chance she raised her head and looked him in the eyes, she noticed the storm brewing behind them but spat out what she needed to say. “You could have raped me Master and I would have still picked up those items and followed you. You may not love, you may not be capable of such a thing, but you have a noble heart, Max!” She shakingly placed her hand into his, mingling her fingers between his talons. “You mangled your own hand to keep from doing what you felt was wrong… so you don’t have to love me…” her eyes shifted from his right eye which showed blue and his left one which showed green. “Either of you, Beast” Assuming that was him behind one of those colors. “I am your slave. You keep me safe, feed me, pleasure me.” Smirking slightly as she noticed the corner of Max’s lip flinches up. “So if all I have to offer is my body, then it’s yours… freely given, even if it cost me my life.”
[MINE!] Beast howled in triumph, echoing throughout Max’s mind and causing his blood to heat up.
“You don’t understand what you are saying,” Max stated flatly,
“I don’t have to understand, Master.” She said from her place on her knees as she continued to search his eyes. “Keep being that man that you are, for as long as you can and I give you my essence to feed from, my body to be used as you please, and if ever there be a time that you require it, kill me, knowing I give it all freely.”
[ACCEPTED!] Beast claimed, producing a symbolled document, marked in archaic runes.
“You stupid whore.” Max stated while lifting her to her feet and turning to continue down the tunnel. “There are things worse than death.” Pausing only a moment he looked back over his shoulder with a slight scowl on his face. “But your contract is accepted.”
With a snap of his fingers, an instant searing pain wrapped around her left forearm where a branded image of the same tattoo that covered Max’s back, appeared in bleeding lines.
Every girl has that dreams of their ideal mate, the way they would meet, how he would swoop in and take her to himself… This was none of that, yet she couldn’t help but giggle and nearly skip to catch up to him.
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Thank you to my supporters and their encouragement and my lovely ^AngelBunny^ for all her advise and editor work.
CH6, Were-Bear, coming soon
That moment when reality went to far 🤣🤣🤣
https://youtube.com/shorts/7cyeJ2xPHgA?feature=share3
[Some rumbling rubbish, I wrote but never posted. Are you a Monster or do you wear Mask?]
Have you ever wondered if you was born in a time that wasn't the same as you?
I often find myself alone in room full of people at a masquerade ball. I find that telling someone what I'm looking for is just asking to be lied to, yet if nobody says nothing, nobody gets anywhere. At this ball of trying to meet people nearly everyone likes my costume... I'm a Monster. They see the way I dance and wish to be my partner on the floor. They see the smoldering in my eyes and they yearn to feel that PASSION! They heard the growl undertone of my honeyed words and they wish to be put beneath the fangs and claws. All while the honeyed words touch their ego on how I see them in their costume... I wish the Ball would never end. I prefer to live in the fantasy everyday of my life because when the ball ends, and the mask come off... I am the only Monster left on the floor.
My costume wasn't fake, my passion wasn't a show, my growl is now feared and all the honeyed words are seen as a lore to make them my victim...
I listen to them yell at me, tell me how I'm hurting them by my mere presence, how I'm the evil that causes their trigger and they pull out their proverbial dagger and descend on me without care.
I take it. I'm a Monster, I've been through worse and if I release in retaliation... How many will survive our anger? What is the cost of emotionally induced vengeance upon a people who can not tolerant or endure your very presence? What will it change... In them... In me? Will I be more apt to give in to my Monstrosity in the future and at what point will enough be enough?
I showed up to the ball as myself, I was not the one in deception. I said I was a Monster, a seducing king of blood and desire who lives for the passion, the connection and hunt. I told how I viewed them and what I wished to do and because they are so wrapped up in their delusions of lies... My truth was ignored. Yet it's my fault... But of course it is... I.. am a monster. I lack empathy, therefore I must not be conscious of how my choices affect those around me. I lack sympathy, therefore I must not have emotions. Yet in situations that would require either, I mimic what I've seen or I sit silently to keep from making the matters worse. Lacking both of these also means I struggle with compassion, therefore I must not be able to feel things like love, concern, or depth of emotion... but then... Why am I not Monstrous all the time?
I do not feel empathy for me, I am a Monster and was born this way. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I don't feel Sympathy for myself because I'm a Monster, and I've nothing to be sorry for just because I am a Monster. I have no Compassion for myself because as a Monster I would have to say that something is "inherently wrong" with me being a monster and that would justify my own Monstrosity and Monstrous behavior...
However as a Monster, I'm far kinder than most of those on the ball room floor. I'm honest. I'm intimidating. I'm gruff but I love to laugh. I'm passionate and full of silliness. I live in a fantasy where I can be human and humans are nice and some are pretty... And want to be seen as pretty so that a Monster like me can look upon all their beauty and marvel.
But when the veil falls at the end of the day... I am a Monster and Monster aren't pretty. We aren't cute or adorable. We are the things that go bump in the night, causing horror and terror. I am well aware and hyper sensitive of how we look in your human eyes. So I watch what we say, I learn to control our anger and our nature all so we can be with you. I don't talk about how many years we had to fight ourselves, by ourselves because nobody gives a fuck about the inner ticking of a monster... Well... Unless it's to study us. Use us for personal gain. I mean *snickers* isn't this the very purpose of Psychology? Study the monster, see why they think this and do that... But I digress.
If left to be me wherein I didn't care to be better or try to be human, I would tell people to fuck the hell, right off. Get over your childhood trauma from when you was 12... You're 30 to 40+ now and have yet to make a real positive difference in your character. Put away your victim mentality and start seeing that you are not a child anymore. They can't hurt you unless you let them. Your Monsters are not hiding under your fucking bed. You invited them in, you gave them a home in your mind and you demonize yourself while blaming them.
You Humans live in a delusion.
Monsters know we are Monsters. We either act monstrous because we can't get away from all the negativity that is forced on us or we strive to become better than.
I laugh louder
I find joy in simple things around me
I love deep
I forgive easy (even though my temper burns long and hot... I try not to let others see it)
I place our partners well-being before my own
I consider what I say BEFORE I say it and keep my fuckn mouth closed if I think it will hurt those I care for.
I take the cuts of others care-less ness and refuse to destroy them because of how it may affect those I love.
I bandage my mental and emotional wounds in silence because if we let people know that they hurt us, they'll only use it again the next time.
I acknowledge that I fuck up and I may not beg, but I ask for forgiveness. And then strive NOT to repeat the offense again...
Because I know I'm a Monster and I chose to be better than Monstrous.
I don't hide who I am and I have days where I struggle but I'm proud to be "this" me because of what I've achieved.
It just gets a lil fuckn lonely sometimes being one of the few not needing a mask in a room full of people who think they are at a masquerade ball.