Mood:
brightTopic: On A New Topic :D
Excerpt from Daughter of the Pride by Meliora Volens
(Excerpted from the end of “Norton the Owl-Breasted (Chapter 2)” to give a point of reference to the reader).
When Candice left I was called to the living room to tell what happened and since it wasn’t polite to make a person crane their neck to talk to you, and the other furniture was occupied, I sat on the floor between Norton’s feet and reported things the way it seemed to happen and hoped I wouldn’t be scolded too much for being in the right.
She didn’t have to ask me if I wanted to be in a relationship with her; I’d already been claimed and everything that I am already belonged to her. She didn’t need to ask, I’d already said yes and writhed under her power and as far as I was concerned I could only hope she had even a small place in her life for me.
She called me closer to rise on my knees and “stand” between her legs and allowed me to place my hands on her thighs rather than the arms of the recliner. I wanted to climb into her lap and adore her and all I could think to do was smooth the fabric of her cords the wrong way and back again, and hope she might tell me to do something else before I acted on my impulses again and she felt the need to restrain me; although I rather liked that too, I remembered just then.
“Do you like me at all, Heather?” She asked me with a friendly face and something crafty in her eyes.
“Oh my God, I *adore* you, I worship you! I love you, Norton, you’re just the most amazing person I ever met and I know I’m really young for you, but I just want to be near you and love you and just do everything you need…” I babbled for a few minutes with hardly a breath. I really liked her a lot.
She waited until I’d wound myself down to a lower pitch, placing her hands on mine, and spoke calmly, in casual intonation for the waves of emotions washing through us.
“Excellent. Thank you, girl; that’s all I needed to know. Would you like to sit here with me while my friends and I socialize?”
Thus, I was enslaved by a woman’s charms and born a natural lesbian.
I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to think of moving into Norton’s room and sleeping in her bed with her. Other lovers did that, some years it was almost like musical bedrooms around that place, but it simply never crossed my mind till many years later. I suppose if that had been something that occurred to Norton she would have mentioned it herself if she liked the idea.
Flying Romps and Owl Ash (Chapter 3)
On the other hand, I often slept at the end of her royal bed in a St. Bernard sized pet bed because I was too pooped out or goofy minded to crawl downstairs to my own.
Her room was usually hot, even with the bathroom sized sliding window they’d used to build the “greenhouse” window wide open all day. But I suppose that’s no excuse; I think I just liked being nude around her.
I felt encouraged by the fact that whenever I asked what she thought I should wear for a particular occasion, she would always say, “Nude, but I suppose that one green dress I like so much (or whatever her whim of the moment), if you must ask.” So, I went nude around her in private without her needing to ask.
Privately, she pampered me like a royal concubine and it was difficult for me to keep my hands to myself, although I did my best to follow her mood and respond accordingly and that was probably the easiest thing I did with her. After a time of observing her daily routine and watching how she did things for herself, I felt insignificant and wondered why she treated me so well, or even had me around at all. There was absolutely nothing I could do for that woman she wasn’t fully capable of handling much more effectively herself.
However, every time I climbed the stairs to question her about matters, by the time I reached the landing at the elbow of the stairwell I’d forget all else except anticipation of her; and crossing the threshold at the top felt like stepping into a fantasy land where nothing else in the universe mattered except Norton and me.
There were small, hardly noticeable signs around, and she was extremely private in private too, but I was more oblivious than ever. She told me everyday that she would be only my first lover and I would soon fly off into the life I was meant to live and remember her fondly the rest of my days. As if she were Christ Himself and could see that I would be her Judas. I wouldn’t hear a word of it.
I knew 26 years was a big age difference, and I saw only the benefits in loving a strong, smart, loyal girl like me; and I didn’t expect anything of her too, I told her that back everyday. It was like a greeting the first five minutes she had me to herself after a time, seemed to me; and I’m certain that’s the closest we ever got to an argument.
I reveled in everything she did with me, especially the teasing and building my anticipation and controlling me to my wits ends. I could be enraged and resistant the entire time and she would still have utter command of my body and enjoyed taking my emotional control from me even more. And my tears didn’t work at all in persuading her she “hurt” me or that I “hated” it; she enjoyed it even more when I cried because my body relaxed and my mind escaped and she was left with the real me from that point on.
I worked really hard for a time to skip the whole emotional part and just give her the “real” me from her first kisses, her first words, in fact, but I came to the conclusion that I simply can’t get there without the steps in between, or the right someone to engage me either (as fun as “self-engagement” has always been for me).
Today, the sound of the crack of a cane or whip against flesh makes my own body anticipate sexual and masochistic gratification. A big part of me wouldn’t have felt as satisfied if she expected me to just lay there and take it without having some feelings about it. And I simply wanted her to seduce me.
Norton lost her owl to cancer in 1977 and I think she would have recovered in time if the surgeons had done a better job with what they left behind. It seemed like they hacked them off in the middle, sucked the rest of the fatty tissue off her muscles and stretched the remaining skin any way it best covered her chest. It was just so shocking to see even the artistry of it destroyed like that, as if the sight of it had offended the doctor.
She attempted to make light of it later when there was nothing left to be done, telling folks Picasso had attacked her owl and if people thought that was bad, they should talk to Picasso; he’s still dead. But I knew she never got over her grief and resentment; I don’t believe I have either. What the doctor did to her wasn’t even sadistic, it was just plain cruel. I rarely saw her chest after I helped her remove the stitches and even closing my eyes and remembering her owl flying in my face, it still wasn’t the same.
Not that I’d ever been allowed to adore her breasts like I might Holly or someone else. She distracted me and redirected me and it never occurred to me that I didn’t have much of a sexual relationship with her owl; until it was gone.
She took her time the first few months before I knew she had cancer, exploring my body and discovering me and learning my mind; and I didn’t understand why she was waiting so long to make love to me, or at least let me have more of my way with her too. Perhaps she would have romped my bones sooner if I hadn’t mentioned anything or pushed things to the edge sometimes, I don’t know; she was certainly sadistic enough to enjoy hearing me beg and try everything else.
However when she finally struck it was more like a raging fight than love; as violent as rape except I welcomed her into me and absorbed everything she wanted to beat into me with abandon and all my senses reeling. Even in the distance as my mind called out warning and alarm, I egged Norton on and dared her to cum in *my* mouth for once because even if she killed me in the explosion there was no denying that I’d had some affect on her. And I think that’s really all I wanted; to know I’d ruffled her feathers a little too.
The Earth Goddess Sadist and Other Kinds of Lesbians (Chapter 4)