infidelity

your eyes
I can see her face in
reflected past the camera
a veiled memory
trapped inside a lens
a fleeting glimpse
flashes in a mirror
a frozen fragment
now I can pinpoint
where everything went wrong
when one day
your smile was not for me
and pictures posted
were perfect pressed memories
of a fabricated time
staged to trap your lies
making love
behind closed eyes

Kate Davidson

Looking for what…?

Interesting idea….

Breakfast reading…

Cautionary tale…

It did however remind me of the cautionary tale of my son’s nursery school teacher, a lady named Miss Smith, referred to as Mith Mith by her lisping charges. It’s a true story, albeit tragic. A group of infants on a Tuesday morning just before Christmas in a house in Ullet Road, Liverpool, were discovered at home-time marching up and down swigging bottles of milk in an abandoned manner while Mith Mith lay slumped across the piano. She had been dead for a quarter of an hour and had apparently passed on in the middle of The Grand Old Duke of York. This shocking incident has remained fresh as a daisy in my memory because I hadn’t got round to paying the fees, whereas the rest of the mothers had stumped up the three guineas a term in advance.

Beryl Bainbridge
Something Happened Yesterday

A time of choices…

It seemed both unlikely and extremely final. She wondered how she would feel to be a married woman. It would be the end of her life, she decided, if life was a time of choices. In a week from now, she would have no choices. She would reign over her people. She would have children. Perhaps she would die in childbirth, perhaps she would die as an old woman, or in battle. But the path to her death, heartbeat by heartbeat, would be inevitable.

Neil Gaiman
The Sleeper and the Spindle

Really…?

“It isn’t very good
In the Dark Dark Wood,
In the middle of the night
When there isn’t any light;
It isn’t very good
In the Dark Dark Wood.”

Enid Blyton
Here Comes Noddy Again*

(*unfortunate title that, don’t you think? P)

Books…..

The Lesbian Witch, the Rich Man and his daughters…

ONCE UPON A TIME there was a man with great wealth who loved money and power more than anything else in the world – and that included his three daughters!

Mounted in his study was a huge wall safe with a six-inch thick steel door. ‘No one could ever get into that,’ he was assured by the manufacturers, ‘without going to a great deal of trouble.’ ‘No,’ confirmed the instillation engineers, ‘It’d take a huge amount of C4 to blast this baby open…’

Even so our wealthy man sent for a local wise woman, a witch with much power, who was adept at spell casting and other such things. He had the witch lay a curse on the safe. Whomsoever should touch it (with the exception of himself, of course) should be sent immediately to a room in a brothel in Mumbai, there to be forced into sexual servitude for the rest of their days…

Then one day when their father was away on business, his three daughters entered his study. ‘Don’t touch the safe,’ said one, the eldest.

‘Nonsense,’ replied the youngest. ‘I want to see the money. Our father loves us and would never do something that could cause us harm.’

‘You’re probably right,’ agreed the middle sister. ‘The curse on it, is meant for others. Not for family.’

So the younger sister punched in the combination to the safe, and opened the door. Shelves within were stacked with bundles of cash. ‘Look at all this…’ She plucked a nice thick wad of euro notes from the safe’s interior. ‘I’m rich,’ she laughed, tossing the money into the air. ‘Rich…!’

The other two grabbed handfuls of cash and followed their sister’s example. Suddenly, and without prior warning, the three young women disappeared from the room. Silence returned. Euro notes drifting in the still air, fluttered slowly to the floor.

When their father returned a day or so later, there was no sign of his three daughters. Glancing round his study, he saw the spilled money on the floor and the safe door standing ajar. He guessed immediately what had happened.

Now, he’d always assumed that any thief attempting to open his safe would be male. This fact had influenced him in his choice of destination for the curse, as the brothel in Mumbai was the haunt of male homosexuals and catamites with an addiction to cock. Males required to work in this establishment were often ‘feminised’, and trained to become compliant girly-boys for the pleasure of the rampant cliental.

With this in mind, he wondered what would be the fate of his three daughters?

He imagined his girls with a gang of hulking, hairy geezers. Their boyish figures might attract these sordid individuals…? These rugged male sex addicts might just be tempted to spread their virgin buttocks? He could imagine the stupid vacant grins of the men, and the terror of his girls confronted by so many stiff cocks.

He must act quickly if they were to be saved from sodomite slavery. He picked up the telephone.

Less than two hours later, as the clock struck nine, plain-clothes and uniform policemen moved in. The brothel was behind the railway station, a shady area of massage parlours, and brothels: here was the hub of the city’s sex trade, where people came to find gigolos, massage experts, masseurs or escorts; young men and women who would indulge any vice imaginable for money…

A whistle was blown and the police burst into the brothel: curtains were ripped from small cubicles where oiled bodies lay entwined, male clients their faces dazed grabbed frantically for clothes to hide throbbing erections; men with carnal appetites unappeased snapped angrily at the invading officers, demanding to know ‘What the hell is going on…’

The police tore the building apart but found not a trace of the missing girls. This information was quickly passed back to their anxiously waiting father.

Now, it so happened, that the witch of power, who’d placed the curse on the safe, had had a presentiment of impending catastrophe at the time. So instead of the Mumbai brothel, she’d chosen rooms in her own vast castle as the final destination for anyone stupid enough to attempt entry to the safe. And there it was, the three girls abruptly materialised.

The witch right away realised what had happened. She confronted the three girls individually. ‘You have a choice my dear,’ she said to the oldest. ‘It’s between remaining with me as my lover, or being sold into sexual slavery.’

‘That’s no choice,’ the girl replied.

‘You’re a thief. A greedy, spoilt thief. You should pay for your crime…’

‘The idea of being with another woman sickens me…It’s unnatural and sick!’

So the witch who was tall and dark, muttered strange sounding words and carved runes with her fingers in the air. Moments later the girl kissed the witch on the mouth. They undressed each other and fell onto a nearby couch. The girl, kissing the slender neck, breasts and belly of the witch, parted the woman’s thighs and buried her face in soft, yielding flesh. The witches sex was like a giant hot-house flower. The girl lapped greedily at it, sucked the thick lips, flicked at the engorged, sensitive bud, which made the witch cry out with pleasure…

The middle sister was next. As with the older girl she was offered a similar choice of fates, but as with her sister she found the idea of congress with another woman abhorrent. Once more the witch intoned words of power, and shortly afterwards the girl was naked, her face between the witch’s wildly scissoring legs…

Two hours later the witch cast a spell of renewal over herself. She carefully bathed her throbbing sex in a solid gold bidet in her boudoir. She knew it would be possible to cast enchantments on these girls and keep them with her forever…But the spells wouldn’t last; they would become unwilling paramours over time. Every full moon she’d have to renew the spell of enchantment, and that would be a drain on her power; might seriously weaken her.

Later, she confronted the third, youngest sister. Once again she offered a choice of sexual slavery in a busy third-world brothel ,or to remain here, in this castle, as the witch’s lover.

‘That’s no choice,’ the youngest sister said. ‘I could never be with a man. The idea disgusts me…Sickens me to my very soul! But you…Well, you are so beautiful. I could easily spend a lifetime in your arms.’

Naked, coiled together, on the witch’s red-velvet couch, the two women experienced the most powerful, sexually-induced experience possible. It was transcendental. The girl lay back, eyes closed, as the witch did things between her spread thighs that made her cum in a back-arcing, dear-God-please-don’t-ever-stop kind of way. And when the sister licked the witch’s richly scented flower, the witch felt familiar highs, like waves surging through her long body, and screamed her orgasm at the four winds above….

But still the girl hadn’t had enough of the witch’s body. She examined the fine black pubic hair on the witch’s mound; the dark, meaty petals of her labia; the exposed head of the woman’s clitoris. She lowered her face to taste ecstasy again…

Later, perhaps hours later, they were tangled together on the couch. Grinding against the girl’s small sex with her own – rubbing, thrusting, thighs against belly and buttocks – the witch came again, the force of her climax causing the girl to orgasm also…

‘I love you,’ the girl said. ‘I really do. This is..Is too beautiful.’

‘You’ll stay with me?’

‘For always…’

So it was the witch went to the girl’s father and explained she had saved his daughters from a fate much worse than death. She would return them to him, but for a price.

‘My youngest? To remain with you? My little wild flower? Out of the question. Impossible…’

‘You are a wealthy man,’ the witch said. ‘But I could double that wealth for you?’

‘Double…?’

‘Easily. And you’d still be able to see your youngest from time to time…It’s not as if she’d be gone forever.’

‘You’d take care of her, cherish her?’

‘I promise I’ll love her every night and day…’

And so it was the wealthy man agreed to the witch’s demands. Two of his daughters returned home that same day, and his wealth multiplied at an astonishing rate. While the witch and the youngest sister licked together happily ever after…