(WARNING: What you are about to read may be graphic with a mix of reality and possible elaberation for the sake of the readers enjoyment and identies of those involved, what you chose to believe is soley up to you.)
Tigeress:
As a young lad, I always had temper issues. Call it the ginger in me; being without a soul means you have to fill it with something! In my upper teens, I had a life altering event happen that spun my world into a crash course of fire and violence, what you may ask?... Thats a tale for another time. However, fighting wasn't permitted in my house.. real violence of almost any type wasn't tolerated and if discovered was met with parental guidance of fair and just measure. Suffice it to say, I got my ass wooped a lot by my Papa's belt and to be quite honest, I deserved every lash from the stern, controled hands of a loving father just wanting to keep his son from being in jail. With that in mind, I learned to take it to the woods, where I come across a Tigeress sitting in the branches of a tree that suspended out over the rivers below. I knew the woods I lurked in, knew the river and trees. Where the mud ponds would form after a rain and where the minnows would hide in the waters of the river bank. It was all very familiar and I never had a fear when I prowled them day or night, venting pent up hostilities onto the trees around me. Sooo many saplings paid for my temper. When I first saw her, staring at the overflowing and rushing waters below her, I was perplexed. What was she doing up there? Who was she? Did she realize that branch was mine?! I squatted into the scrub and muddied my clothes in a slow army crawl as I tried to approach her unseen. It was GLORIOUS! I loved feeling like I was stalking a prey... I just wanted to scare the bejebbizes out of her and see if she'd fall into the swift currents below. No, I didn't want her dead, I knew the jump, done it a hundred times myself and how the water would woosh you down river for about twenty feet before you come to the cluster of dead wood hang up that lead into a shallow cove where you could get out safely. However, I'd never seen this girl before so SHE didn't know I knew and that was all too delish to pass up! So I slithered and crawled, keeping my head down but peaking ever so often to make sure she was still transfixed on the waters below. As I drew closer there was a small ditch line, now full of water that I'd have to cross and did it with all the stealth I could imagine a preditor would. I even let myself drift down a little ways so the trunk of the tree would hide me upon my approach. HA! I was damn good! Thats when she jabbed me in the back with a sapling made bow staff... How the fuck she got out of that tree without me seeing was beyond me but to say it made her instintly a friend would not be a far stretch of the imagination. Over the course of the year we grew very close and she taught me a lot about myself... made me feel comfortable in my own skin. With her, I could be me, the real me... she not only could take a hit but gave them out just as hard and taught me how to control my rage that seemed to gnawl at me daily. By control, I don't mean, how to not be angry or violent but more along the line of how to focus it, direct it, and feel the world around me through it. I was completely unaware of how hightened ones senses can become when you focus your anger into listening... smelling... feeling the energy around you so you could release it into a fury of quick burst. Running, fighting, even passion was found in these fun times of possibly unintentional trainings. She was my first real sexual encounter, formed "on the battle field" where we would hunt one another and fight to a pen/tap out. It was she who helped me discover that I was monster in the making... that if I didn't learn to control my beast, it would control me. If you haven't figured it out by now, she was a few years older than myself. She was cunning, not overly lovely to look at, but seemingly in complete attunement with me. She'd notice the signs before I did that I was about to change, steer me in a different direction or invite the beast out to play and it was she who helped me come to grips with my blood lust. Yes I know that wording can mean violance but in this case, it was quite literal. I craved something that was morally wrong. Being pressed to consume what the body wasn't ment to digest and in quanties that would end me if I gave into desire. She reconized this as she seemed to do by pure instinct and experimentation. One night after a fun hunt and under the moonlight, we lay on our backs, looking up into the cloud curtianed stars to have a talk about why I felt how I did... Thats when she drew out a pocket knife and cut the back of her wrist. She didn't ask, hell I didn't even realize what she'd done until she was straddling me and looking into my eyes offering what seemed to be the most silly question: "Do you trust me?" I quirked an eyebrow and lay my hands to her waist, completely missunderstanding her intentions. "Of course I d..." The words no sooner escaped my lips when she slammed her palm onto the hollow of my collar bone and pressed the wound of her other arm, to my lips. "Drink."... It wasn't a command or a request... it was like she was telling me more than just a word with her eyes and emphasis... and I did. Without hesitation I bit across the wound, driven by what I presume would be instinct... She later explained what happend, how the change took me and my monster emerged... though to be quite honest, I don't remember a bit of it. What I remember was a moment of sexual build up, the taste of copper being chucked down my throat and a swirl of red. When I woke up I discovered I was in a field, butt ass naked with blood on my hands and mouth (thankfully her's as I later found out.) It was only about four block but there is no words to discribe how far you are from home when you realize you're naked and bloody... that was the longest, scariest walk of my life! From then on, every full moon, we'd meet at our tree and she'd feed me.... ok well to be a little more factual, she'd tie me to up to the tree, which was immensly arousing, and fed me so I couldn't run off again. Needless to say, I was head over heels in love with this girl. My Tigeress. But life doesn't always end in rose's and rainbows. A hunter took her from me and that is all I am willing to say on the topic.
Though I didn't understand all of it and the word Primal didn't exisit in my subburb, let alone horror fantisy of vampires, it was how I identified to the world around me. I am a Vampyre.. que up a shit ton of research that lead NO WHERE! (keep in mind, this is before interwebs! OMG He's THAT old?!?!)
She was were my first encounter was given into unidentified master/slave concepts... primal to primal. To have somebody you could trust with your very life, submit to thier instruction without question and feel like all life outside was but vanilla background. She was my first and only "master".
To the spirit of my Tygress: My blood was your blood, your blood was mine. From dusk to dawn, throughout all time.
