The Search

It took a while to find a new spot.  Queen knew how important proximity was to me, so She went out of Her way to provide me with maximum discomfort.  All of the places I sought out had been burned, flooded, or infested with plague.  It had to be Her doing.

Queen now guarded her 24-7.  She designed someone to keep vigil as she went on Her errands.  My love was eye candy in the store.  No matter what I tried, I was unable to touch her the way I had before.  Whatever progress I made tapping into her id evaporated with Queen's influence and teachings.

Any normal being would have given up.

Who said I was normal?

Battle Lines

The times that followed can be described as a stalemate--like a plane in a holding pattern not given clearance to land.

I had introduced her to the pinnacles of her urges.  I wanted to sculpt her to explore it further.  I knew the warning from Queen but the challenge of my love remained my motivation, and I would not be deterred.

After the encounter, Queen made a point not to stay away for extremely long periods of time.  She could tell by the change in my love's vitals when I had come.  I kept cutting it too close, so she didn't have time to simmer down before Queen arrived.

One night, I noticed that Queen had been gone a bit longer than usual.  I opted to be bold and attempt another B & E (Breaking and Entering).

I scanned the area.  Looked clear.

Drew my blade and poked.  All clear.

My mind screaming, "Girl, this is way too easy--something is up..."

But all I could hear was my lust.

The lights were dim already.   This slightly threw me off; normally she would still be up reading, dozing with book in hand.

But I was so enthralled with the ease of entry, I did not take as much heed to the pattern change as I should have.  I kneeled and reached out to caress her ear...

"Something's not right..." my mind still saying.

And then I feel the temperature of the cartilege shift.

Fuck, it's a trap...

As Queen reached for me, I morphed into vapor and vanished towards my usual hiding spot, only to find it had been vandalized.  While I had been scoping her, Queen had been investigating.

As I stewed in anger, I remembered Queen's words.

"Don't make me hunt you..."

I screamed.

Down below, a slow smile spread across Queen's face.

My Experiment

I wanted to have a little fun--to see how far I could push the envelope.  I noticed she had developed an interest in Harlequin, but she would hide the books, for she didn't think Grandma would approve.  She got them for little or nothing at the library, and she wisely mixed them between classics and school books.

One night, she drifted to sleep before she could fully finish deciphering one of the sex scenes.  I glanced around to see if Queen was close.  No sign.  I withdrew my blade to see if I would encounter the same force field as before.  I didn't.

I crept from my hiding place and ventured closer to her.  Her teeth were slightly clenched but the rest of her very relaxed.  I pushed her thick, black hair back to caress the outline of her ear.  So soft, so delicate...looking oh, so succulent. 

The tip of my tongue grazed the pointedness of my teeth.  Predatory heat colored my retinas.  My blood was coarsing; my body throbbed uncontrollably.

I want.  I need.  I crave.

I must...

I cannot wait any longer;

I will MAKE you know I exist...

My long tongue trailed the back of the exposed ear down the length of her neck.  She shivered. 

I repeated the action again.

She shivered but I also noticed other parts of her body were coming out of slumber.  I placed my hands beneath her hot pink and white striped sleepshirt to grasp her rising mahogany peaks.

She groaned and winced at the same tips.

Oops...too much pressure.  I hadn't given thought that her tolerance for pain was way less than my own.  My clit became more engorged with the knowledge.

I will teach you to love my pain, baby...

I brushed my clit against her panties while continuing the dance of tongue and hands.  Her heart accelerated to meet the rhythm of mine.  I had to lick my lips to stop my salivation.

Her clit was swelling against my own.  Her thick thighs slowly spread and she twitched.  I paused, not sure if this were a bad thing or not.

Oh, shit...

She sat up and began to rub her eyes.  This was not what I was aiming to do.  Should I leave or follow?

My mind screaming, "You're being way too reckless.  Queen could come back at any time.  Cut your losses and live to do it another day."

My heart debating, "But what if you never have this full fledged opening again?  Could you live with yourself if you missed out?"

No, I couldn't.

I followed her slow trip to the bathroom.  She slid down her white Hanes panties and sat on the toilet, confusion etching her face.

I smiled and then laughed.  The poor dear thought her erection meant she had to urinate.  It was pitiful yet sweet.  My love for her became even greater.

I kneeled before her and stared at her rosebud.  So perfect, never been plucked.  I let the heat of my breath tease it.

"What's wrong with you?" she growled in frustration, looking at her raised button.  "You're starting to hurt; how can I make you go away?"

I smirked and continue to blow.  Her right hand made a swatting gesture and connected with her vulva and raised clit.  She bit her lip and began to rub to alleviate the pain.  The pain gave way to relief, and she rubbed and melted into pleasure as her fingers moved faster and faster.  Her head tilted back; her eyes closed.  As her thighs quaked, I grasped them and slightly elevated them, so the toilet seat would not sound as her orgasms rushed through her...

All of a sudden, the atmosphere went from warm to chilled...

fuck...

I raced back to my hiding place; she tumbled from Paradise to Reality and left the bathroom to resume slumber.

Just when I thought I had escaped undetected, I heard something.  At first, I ignored it because I believed it was the force field being reconstructed.  I stilled the rushing of my heart, amplified my ears' volume.

"I don't know who You are, but stay away from her."

Soft, yet forceful.

"I can't see You, but I can feel You.  Know that I will always be able to feel You."

I knew I should have either confronted Her or walked even further away.

But I was frozen.

"I'm only telling You nicely this once.  Stay away.  Don't make me hunt for You."

Then, She tucked her in and resumed Her watch.

I should have been infuriated.  How dare She tell me what I can and cannot do?  She's the new bitch on the block; I got Seniority!

But I bowed down to a bedrudging respect; if the tables were turned, I would have done the same thing but not nearly as eloquent.

Ah, Queen, let the games begin.  You're a valiant opponent, but in the end, she will remain mine."

Queen: Observation Four

Queen had a flaw.

She was a prude.

A non-sexual being.

Any sparks of lust, desire, fantasy would be snubbed out when Queen was near her.

I had a gateway.  I waited until Queen was asleep or writing and then I would visit. 

I made pleasing discoveries about my beloved.  Inklings of being aware that certain parts of the anatomy of sexual organs, knowing her grandparents had more pressing things to attend to, she opted not to ask any questions.  She didn't want to arouse fear or worry.

They seemed to rule with a somewhat iron fist.  She didn't have the freedoms most her age did--to hang out at the mall, go to the movies, have birthday parties, sleepovers, but in the beginning, she didn't feel as if she were missing much.  Perhaps if she had realized that she was being somewhat punished by the sins of her mother and the guilt of her grandparents, her attitude would have been different.

But I digress.



Queen: Observation Three

My energy wears the scars of battle;

Her skin wore the scars of none.

My Nemesis was breathtaking, but even that weren't enough words to truly describe Queen.  Her energy had a regalness; one found herself bowing even if she didn't want to.  Her eyes, shining and young, her insight, far surpassing the years.

I wanted to hate Her so bad, but there was so much to love, admire, and respect about Queen.  I couldn't bring myself to destroy Her and that reality tore at me daily.

Perhaps I should have pressed forward with my intentions in the interim.  Who knows how things would have transpired but I can't waste time on back then.  I can only focus on the now--the current situation.  I was in a losing situation, should have walked away but my pride wouldn't let me go.  I saw her first, and Queen was only temporary.  My time would come soon enough.

Queen: Observation Two

How could I take out this new threat?  I had to take a closer look.

But I noticed, as I drew near, that a force field had been woven around the two.  I scraped my nails against it-it trembled but would not give.  I withdrew my blade and poked at it with the tip; bolts of current surged through me.

My eyes flashed in anger, and then I smiled.  I always did like a challenge; perhaps this could hone and evolve my own abilities.  When I put it into this perspective, I could convince myself I did not feel as threatened. 

Yet I could not deny that Queen was the stronger entity-an embodiment of the power she always possessed but did not feel bold enough to unleash as herself. 

The Trick even had me questioning my own swagga...

Queen: Observation One

It was through observation that I discovered Queen. 

I could tell because her art changed--the concrete became more abstract. 

The writings slowly became more evolved--from slight remnants of her to oblivion.

Soon, no one--from classmates to teachers, understood her metaphors, the direction her mind went with certain pieces.  Genius and dementia began to walk fine lines.

I don't know why it never occurred to me how fragile Human Spirit could be.  That, at times, it can crack, crumble--that other elements can slither in before putting the facade back together. 

Was my love at that point and I was too blinded by my own agenda to see the signs?  Or was this her way of saying she didn't need me or want me?

Either way, I was no longer in the top running for her attentions, and I was, in one word, pissed.  And that is putting it lightly.

Once Queen came to light, I felt such a sequence of emotions.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to cry.  I wanted to fight.  I wanted to fuck.  I did more the later than anything to channel the aggression in a positive way, even if it meant my clitoral and vaginal tissues were raw as a result.

Queen: Birth

Writing was the greatest thing that happened to her but the worse possible thing to happen to me, for another appeared and she ceased to see me.

Even I knew I was truly no match for a Queen.

Defending Principle

Intelligence in a black child, especially in school, can isolate her from her kind.  As time went on, she saw more like white and less like black.

It was Reading class, and kids tended to have certain seats they always sat in.  She was no different.

One particular day, one of the "preppies" (whites whose parents were well-to-do) decided to put his ass in her seat.  She checked to see if his seat was occupied.  If it was, she would let it pass, but to her surprise, his usual seat was free.

But the reader of this tale may inquire, "Why not sit in his seat?"

Simple--it's the principle.  Why choose this day?  Why choose her seat when his was available?

She said, "Excuse me, but you are in my seat."

He replied, "Funny, I don't see your name on it."

She countered, "But you know, I sit there all the time..."

He lashed, "My seat is free; take taht one!"

She explained, "That is not the point.  I like that seat; it's the seat I've walways had since the start of the school year..."

He yelled, "Get another seat, nigger!"

The heat that rushed to her face and behind her eyes summoned me. 

This event could go one of two ways.  One would be her normal m.o.--to bite her tongue and take his seat, to stew on it for the rest of the day.  But I was no longer content to let her have any say over the second, which would have been to tell the teacher and let her deal with it.  Ignorant pricks like him needed a more forceful wake up call.  So I used the heat of her anger to become part of her.  The point where she would concede I forced her to stand.

He yelled again, this time attracting attention, "I guess you're deaf.  I told you to find another seat, n-----"

And before he could get it out, I froze her hesitation, transplanted my adrenalin, clutched his throat and flung him out of the chair and against the concrete wall.  His face quickly turned red as all conversation ceased.

Her mouth moved to form the words, "Call me nigger again or sit in my seat, you will be very sorry."

My intensity activated his fear and accelerated him to his seat.  The teacher entered, aware something had happened but no one stepped up to offer any information. 

As she sat at her desk, I took flight.

Side Note:  He never sat in her seat again, nor called her the n word.

I smirked in satisfaction but knew I had to be careful.   I could not take her out of her normal behaviors or attract too much unwanted attention.  She hadn't noticed anything different until one of her classmates that had Art and Reading with her said, "I didn't know you were that strong, but he shouldn't have been in your seat.  I guess it is the quiet ones you've gotta watch."

Before she could investigate further, the bell rung and the informer had vanished.

Defending Principle: The Introduction

Art was one of her favorite subjects.  It ran marathons with Math and English. 

Around this time, she began to kill the audible.  Unless called upon, she would not speak, whether in social interaction or in class.  Her appeared lack of reaction only gave tormentors more fuel, and it became harder for me to sit still.

At that moment of history, folks would claim she had a lapse--where the torture started to get to her--but I risk the rewrite because that moment was all me.

Weight of Wait

The more I know, the more it grows.  The "it" becomes "they". I am slowly becoming consumed by the flames of desire for You.  I try to put off washing my hands because I don't want to ever lose the scent of You.

Wait, that last line was a bit stalker-ish...

I ball up the paper, and it joins a dozen others.  I'm lousy with the small talk; I am a vessel of action.  But Patience and Action are becoming more at war with each passing day.  I can't even force myself to not look at her.  Willpower escapes me.  She is the Voodoo Queen, and I am under her spell.

Connection: Scene Two

Why don't she love me...

Is she talking about me?

No, she isn't.

Her sorry fucking excuse of a mom.  Just because you give birth doesn't make you a mom--it makes you a reproductive mammal.

I dug deeper and realized her mom lied about her sorry fucking excuse of a dad being dead.  It's better to believe someone is dead than to know he didn't give a fuck.

Why am I here?  Why didn't she just kill me like she wanted to in the beginning?

I don't like where her thougths are heading.  In a distance, I am too far away to really stop where the final destination is.  I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and screamed the first thing that came to my mind...

STOP...STOP...STOP...STOP...

The bottle hits the floor and the contents spill out.  Her grandma calls her for dinner.  She scrambles to cover the tracks of her earlier plans.  She looks around.

Who's there?

I force my racing heart to slow.

Who's there?  Are you the one who touched me?

She really doesn't want to know what else I'd like to do to her.

I slow my breath.

I'm losing my mind.

"Okay, Grandma, I'm coming."



Connection: Scene One

Why don't she love me?

Why did she lie to me?

Why did she leave me, really?

Did she ever love me...

I'm not sure when it stated.

I started hearing her thoughts.

At first, they came as whispers, but it would always be during her low points.

She was the whipping girl for bullies, jealous cousins.  At first, she allowed her face to mirror her anguish,b ut soon she realized the world cared none.

So she began to suppress, pushing everything inside until her heart burned with the acidity and could no longer contain it...but where could it go?

Her anguish was so great; I reached out to touch her; she jerked away, never looked back. 

But my fingers were coated with her heart's residue.  I placed them in my mouth and sucked.  I rushed inside the bathroom stall and locked it.

The cotton of my panties quickly hit the tile.  I continued to suck her essence while my other hand manipulated my own.  Her suppression gave my clit an uncontrollable erection.  Its' intensity made my fingers rub faster and faster.  Tears filled and spilled from my eyes as my desire boiled and then exploded all over my other hand and the edge of the toilet seat.  I could hear nothing except the beating of my own heart at first, but slowly it was drowned out by the ringing of the school bell....

fuck, I lost time

I lost time

Where is she?

But in tasting her overflow, I had unknowingly made her a part of me; her thoughts were the GPS.  She would never be lost to me, really, but what should I do with this newfound knowledge, this power?

The Playground

The playground is nothing more but a stage of mischief for bullies.

Think about it.

So many kids, so little adults.  They can't be everywhere.

So everyday, at least one injustice always goes undetected.

The bullies strut around like peacocks--colors of courage and defiance, nothing more than feeble attempts to coat the blackness of their own inabilities and insecurities.  They have to install fear in others and pretend they are gaining the respect of their victims.

The playground was where I first saw her.  I knew there was something different about her, even in the way she played.

The young usually dipped with reckless abandon, only with life for today, no thoughts of tomorrow.

But she behaved with such reserve--careful not to climb too high on the bars or swing too high, as if she knew tomorrow wasn't promised.  Her clothes bore no brand; her head stayed permanently low or bowed, purposely making little or no contact with those around her.

I clung to the highest branch, tempted to come down, if only to ask, "Why such caution?".

By the time my feet touched Earth, she was scurrying towards the school bus.  On her heels were three girls, mature in looks but immature in so many other ways.  I could tell by the points and snickers they were the local bullies.

She made it on the bus, believing she were safe, but the safety was soon shattered as nails of black, pink, and red forced the front doors open.  My attempts to reach her were thwarted by others racing to their buses as well.  By the time I made it, carnage only remained.

Her face, once a nude brown canvas, was now smeared with black, red, and streaks of tears.  The bus driver, with regret etched on her face, asked if she were all right, but the question was drowned out by the snicker of the bullies and the laughter of the crowd as they took their seats. 

On that day, three things I knew for sure:

• I was in love
• I wanted to protect her
• I wanted to kill them

My dreams were full of sick fantasies of what I wanted to do to those bitches.  My plan was blocked when I realized the main perpetrator was one of her cousins.  Back then, I had a little more consideration for family.  So I gave the trio over to Karma and bided time, not knowing if there would ever be a right time to make her notice me.

Let the Tale Begin

Most think I came to be in 1997,

but it was way sooner

not necessarily my form

but the spirit of my existence

all dated back to my very first love...

she awakened all the good I could be

and all the destruction I could create

were she ever harmed.

I can not, in good conscience, apologize for what was done to others in her honor, only the extremity of my actions.

So It Begins

My words,

I once thought,

was lost.

At one time,

I posted a hefty ransom

if they were brought back.

But now,

I have come to realize

they were closer

than once believed.

The words,

never lost,

but squatting,

waiting on me...

Dedication

I was born from Rage

but sustained by Love

to Alucard, my Alpha

Constantine, my Omega

and Michael, who initiated

my Ressurrection & Restructure

&

for Monica, who listened...

You will never regret it.