So you want me to seduce you

With words upon a screen?

Well, Pet, I can

But only if you call me Queen

Do you want to play my game?

I promise I will bite

So be a good boy

& don't put up a fight

I'll feed you from

My lips with wine

& on your essence

I will dine

You will scream

& beg for more

As I delve deeper

Into your core

I'll be your poison

Laced in lust

In your Queen will you place

All your trust?

That's what I need

Your complete acquiescence

Succumb to me

In my opalescence

Now, get on your knees

There's a good Pet

Don't make me do something

You may regret

Are you ready for the ropes?

To drink from this cup?

Look how pretty you are

All trussed up

Shit it turns me on

To see you laid so bare

So open & vulnerable

Trapped within my lair

Do you like what you see?

I dressed just for you

In my heels, chains & lace

So tell me that you do

Do I seem intimidating?

I know that's what you want

Come, Pet, let's play

Be my debutant

Dance with me

Let me lead you astray

I'll pleasure you with pain

In the most delicious way

I'll leave you wanting

Begging for more

Say please, my Pet

& I'll make you soar (sore)

You will crave my hands

That pinch & smack

That trace red lines

Across your back

You will crave my lips

That suck & kiss

My tongue & mouth

That can deliver such bliss

You will crave the wax

Dripped upon your skin

& the ice that melts

Into your sin

& oh, my Pet

We have just begun

& I am having

So much fun

Aren't you?

I know you are

My beauty, my prize

Shining there like a star

Your face is flushed

Your member hard

You have completely

Dropped your guard

You make me hot

My pussy wet

Just looking at you

Makes me break a sweat

Desire in your eyes

Growing need between your thighs

I smother your pleas

With my own brazen sighs

You're mine for the taking

& I'll take all of you

I'll ravage & ravish you

Through & through

I'll bruise you & bleed you

Torture you & tease you

But I promise I won't leave you

With balls that are blue

I'll drag it out

Of course, it's my job

To bring you to the brink

& your climax rob

Just remember

My darling Pet

That I'll never do

What you won't let

You hold the power

You hold the key

In you awaits

My destiny

With one single word

You can bring me down

Tame the beast

In which you will drown

I hope you don't say it

I don't want to stop

I'm too far in

Don't you like my crop?

Come, my Pet

I'll make it all better

Let me put you on display

In my private theatre

Come, my Pet

Come service your Queen

Come taste my lust

For this next scene

Lick me slow

Then lick me fast

Lick till I cum

Then I'll lick your mast

But, my Pet

You can't cum yet

I need you in me

I'm still so wet

I push you down

Onto the bed

Lay over you

Like a spread

I cuff your hands

So you can't touch

Only grab the bed

In a desperate clutch

We reach the heights

Of passion together

My sweet, little Pet

I'll love you forever

©CJ

5/8/2017

My Darling Castiel,

You are the finest of all beings, my Love, and I live for the moments we are together. With or without your Grace, I am like putty in your hands.

The way you look at me, the way you touch me, the way you save me from demons seeking to use my vessel as their own.

I dream nightly of your hotness touching me, releasing the pent-up desires, therein. I dream of releasing you from your coat of trench and sharing in the heaven that we make together. When we are alone, there is no one but you and I forget all else. I know you do not eat or drink, but still I long to sup at the table that is you.

Save me, my Love, from the darkness threatening to overwhelm me. I need your light, I need your love, I need your heat. I need you, Cas.

Yours,

T-Girl

He untangled himself from the blankets and her embrace, reluctant to leave the warm covers and the one in them. Lifting a hand, he traced it down her cheek, smiling as she murmured in her sleep; he gazed at her, wanting to memorize every curve, every feature, every freckle.

Slowly he forced himself to turn away, standing up from the bed and striding over to the balcony. He looked over his shoulder to catch one last glimpse of her, before throwing open the doors and stepping out into the cool night air; blending into the shadows like a whisper in the darkness.

Soft footsteps sounded behind him, a melodious voice like chimes in the wind whispered, "Must you leave?" 

His heart twisted as he turned, gazing at her as she tugged the white blankets tightly around her frame, black hair wisps in the wind as she stared after him, head cocked to one side in a melancholy expression of question. 

"I must, my love," He said hoarsely, closing the distance between them, gazing into her soft brown eyes brimming with tears.

His lips met hers, then trailed down her neck, her shoulders, skin velvet beneath him; she sighed at his touch, her hands tangling themselves in his hair.

As the first tears escaped her eyes, he raised his head and his eyes bored into hers; a fierce fire burning in them as he murmured, "One day, I will see you again, I swear it."

He withdrew quickly, unfurling his ink-black wings and leaping off the edge of the balcony, she watched as he disappeared, turning back to gaze at her once, twice, three times, she watched until he was a speck on the horizon, until he was gone, then closed her eyes and breathed, 

"Goodbye, my Black Knight."

❋❋❋

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who've liked my work. No, not liked, as in clicked the little heart down below, but liked as in it made you smile, or you felt connected to what I wrote. <3

To put it simply, I love writing, and I'm so, so happy to see that others enjoy my writing or drabbles!

Even one little like makes me happy beyond measure because then I know I made someone happy with something that I wrote, and that's the best reward. :)

So thank you, for supporting me, and smiling while reading something I wrote, I'm happy that this little girl can make a little difference.❋

She sucked in a breath, or tried to, in the midst of the black water. The ocean was everywhere, in her head, up her nose, burning her eyes, strangling her lungs.

It was impossible to tell which way was up, and she struggled, lightning bolts of terror flashing through her writhing body. She couldn't tell if those were snakes wrapping around her, or her own red hair. 

The water seemed to be pressing in on her.

But suddenly, she broke the surface, gasping in air as if she had never breathed.

As her pounding heart slowed, she gazed around, shock widening her eyes. She saw another world, one with black, twisted trees and a blood-red sky.

Fear pounded at her heart.

Were those eyes watching her? Or merely fireflies?

A shadow broke apart from the black trees, approaching the edge of the crystal water. 

It studied her with impossibly violet eyes, she was mesmerized by them, so much so that she couldn't tear her gaze away.

The being gasped silently, then whispered one word.

"Princess?"

His name is Alex. I see him in my dreams. 

He never told me his name. I know what he looks like, but I've never heard the sound of his voice. Still, I knew without him telling me. Somehow I just knew. 

He doesn't interact with me. I think he has a rule about disturbing the dreams he becomes a part of. You could call him an interested bystander: always observing, never engaging. It may sound crazy, but I think he's a dream walker. I watched a movie about lucid dreaming once and there was a character who could join the dreams of other people. They called him a dream walker. That movie was fictional, but it's a compelling idea. 

I want to know more about him. When I wake up after an Alex dream, I try to write down the details exactly as I remember them. I hoped to find a pattern over time; perhaps a setting or situation or people we have in common. Maybe we go to the same cafe or ride the same bus or shop at the same grocery store. So far I haven't had any luck, but I refuse to give up. 

My boyfriend-- sorry, my ex-boyfriend-- said I was obsessed. I'm not, mind you. There's just something about him... I have to know. He got jealous, my ex. What a petty asshole, right? I tried to explain that I needed to find him, but he didn't understand. He said I was losing my mind. That made me really angry, as I recall. I threw a flower pot at him. He was my boyfriend and yet he didn't want to even try to see how important this-- how important Alex-- was to me! Why else would he show up in my dreams like that? He has to mean something! He's there for a reason!

God, what a bullet I dodged. By breaking up with him, I mean. He was narrow-minded. My boss was too, actually. After Alex started showing up more and more frequently, I began to search the places I saw in my dreams for him. I would spend all day somewhere if I had to. I knew that I would have to wait for him and I was willing, if that was what it would take. My boss didn't see it that way, however. He said I was going crazy and on top of that, I wasn't doing my job. Fine, I said. If that's how it is, I quit. 

I don't regret that either. It gave me more time to look for Alex.

I take a sip of the coffee I bought from the cafe Alex sometimes goes to in my dreams, scan the bus for the sixth time. We've picked up and dropped off several people in the past couple of hours, but still no Alex. Disappointed, I decide to get off at the next stop and go back to the apartment. I've been on the bus all night, waiting for Alex, but maybe I'll get some clues if I take a quick nap back at the apartment.

I step off onto the rain-soaked pavement, clutching my jacket close to my chest against the cold. My phone rings from my purse, but I ignore it, taking quick hurried steps to my building. When I get back to my apartment, my cell phone is still ringing. I finally answer it, more out of irritation than anything else. 

"Hello?"

"It's me."

Ugh. "Mom, not right now. I'm busy."

"Wait! Don't hang up!"

My head hurts and I feel annoyed beyond reason, but I obey, slipping onto the couch. 

"What is it?"

"I know you don't like to hear this..."

I sigh. I can already guess where this is going. "I don't want to talk right now."

Now it's her turn to sigh. "I talked to someone who can help you... I'll send you his contact info. Honey, you can't let this control your life! Please promise you'll at least call--"

I hang up. God, my own mother thinks I'm insane.

My phone beeps-- a text message. It's the contact info. I almost ignore it completely, but I catch a glimpse of the name: Doctor Rodriguez.

Doctor Alex Rodriguez.

I can barely dial the number because my hands are shaking, trembling.

He answers, his voice smooth and deep. "Doctor Rodriguez." 

I can barely speak. "Um...Hello."

An achingly long pause. 

"Finally. I've been waiting for you."

“Daddy, why is Mommy crying? Did you make her sad again?”

Little Cammie startled her dad. He pushed his wife from the crux of his arm. Streaks of black mascara stained the sleeves of his polo.

“Cammie, honey, what are you doing out of bed?” His voice straddled the line of annoyance and anger.

Cammie snuck out of bed when Mommy’s sobbing soiled the quiet night. By her accounts, it wasn’t often, but she couldn’t recall the last time she slept a full night through.

Stuffed bear tucked in her mouth; she watched television from the second-floor overlook although she rarely understood the shows her parents watched from the first-floor couch, it made her feel grown up. Part of the family.

The good family.

Tonight was the first time Cammie ventured downstairs from her second floor perch since that night.

The bad family.

Her arm healed. Crooked for weeks, but the hospital said it would straighten in time. Dad said it would straighten faster if she’d mind her own business and stay in bed at night.

Cammie rubbed the jagged scar on her forearm where the bone poked through to the outside. The doctor gave it a name, but Cammie didn’t want to remember. She only wanted one thing.

“I wanna watch TV with you and Mommy.” Cammie bent her knee, twisted her foot on her toes, and batted her big blue eyes at her dad.

“It’s late, Cammie. We have a busy day tomorrow. You need to rest up.” Her dad nudged her with his open palms. “After some early morning fun, your Mom and I have a meeting. Miss Lily is gonna babysit. I know how much fun you two have together.”

Cammie stroked her stuffed pink teddy bear. “I need to make sure Mommy is okay.”

“I'm all right, Sweetie. Please go back to bed like your father asked,” Mom said through her Kleenex mustache.

“But why were you crying?”

“Just something from the movie.” Mom kept one eye on the screen.

Cammie stared at the fifty-inch screen as a boy placed his hand on a train window. She didn’t understand why her parents watched in black and white when the colors worked perfectly well.

“His mommy is going to be mad at him for getting fingerprints on the window.” Cammie remembered all the times her mother yelled at her for doing the same thing, “And now the girl is doing it on the other side of the window! Oh, they are going to be in so much trouble.”

Tears streamed from Mom’s cheek darkening the light brown pillow in her lap.

A moment later both the girl and the boy on television were crying and shouting words to each other through the window.

“Are you sad because they are getting handprints on the window, Mommy?” Cammie asked.

Mom wiped away the tears from her face and then inhaled what Cammie estimated to be about a gallon of snot, “No, Honey. They were best friends who realized they were in love with each other, but they waited too long to tell each other. He’s on a train about to leave to fight some bad guys and is probably going to die. Them putting their hands on the clear window like that is their way of telling each other they are soul mates and will be together forever in each other’s heart. It’s so beautiful.”

Dad gathered Cammie in his arms, “Alright Peanut, that’s enough love lessons for you tonight. Let’s get you back into bed, so your mother can finish her movie and her bottle of wine, and your dad can get some sleep of his own.”

“Does Mommy have a soul mate, Daddy?” Cammie rested her head on her father’s shoulder.

“I think so, Baby Doll.” Her dad squeezed her tight, “Maybe more than one, but she doesn’t realize it. I’ll be happy when she does. We’ll all be happy when she does.”

The second floor wasn’t as lonely now that her dad slept in the bedroom next to Cammie’s instead of with Mom downstairs. At least tonight, Cammie didn’t think there would be slamming doors waking her.

***

"Rise and shine, Peanut!”

Cammie rubbed her eyes as she dragged her tattered bear down the stairs.

“Eat up quick. We need to get you dressed and down to the pond before it gets too crowded.” Dad flew around the kitchen. He banged pots and pans for no reason while Mom sat with her forehead in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other.

“God, you can be such an asshole sometimes, Pete,” Mom muttered between gulps of coffee. “I should thank you for killing any second thoughts I had about our meeting this afternoon.”

“You should really bitch to tea, you know.” Dad spun away from Cammie as he spoke.

“What did you say to me?” Mom slammed her mug on the counter. Waves of black crested the rim, dribbling onto the marbled granite.

“Switch to tea.” Dad frisbeed a coaster across the counter. “And use a coaster.”

Cammie prepared her breakfast these days and headed for the pantry to grab her favorite leprechaun adorned cereal box.

“Ow!” She screamed, hopping in chaotic circles holding her toe.

“What happened?” Dad asked.

“I kicked an empty bottle.” Cammie continued hopping on one foot certain she now held the Guinness record for length of time.

“Looks like someone’s Mom decided to stay up late last night and couldn’t get the empty into the recycling bin.”

“Stow it, Pete.” Mom held the coffee close to her mouth but didn’t drink. She popped two little white pills in her mouth and swallowed hard, “Can we just get going?”

***

Cammie loved ice skating with her parents, although she couldn’t understand why they didn’t all hold hands any longer. A small part of her didn’t mind. She would be eight in a few months and could skate without any help these days. Stopping presented a challenge at times, but in her opinion, that’s why there were other skaters on the pond. Dad called them bumper cars.

Her parents trailed behind her the first time around the pond. The only words spoken came from Dad who warned her to stay away from the thin ice sign.

After two laps, Cammie noticed a little boy in a red jacket holding hands with both his mother and his father.

“Skating alone isn’t any fun,” she muttered.

Cammie dropped back and grabbed Mom’s hand. On the next pass, she grabbed Dad's hand and refused to let go of Mom’s.

“Isn’t this fun?” Cammie smiled.

“Yes, Sweetie,” Mom raised one side of her mouth.

“Although, not as fun as an entire bottle of wine,” Dad smirked. “A good bottle too. I believe I brought that back from Sonoma last year too.”

“Seriously, Pete? You’re going to bring that shit up again.” Mom skidded to a halt while Dad continued. Cammie stretched like Gumby between them but held on tight until everyone tumbled to the ice.

“If it were just one time, then no, I wouldn’t bring it up. But come on Claire, that’s what, the fourth bottle this week? Not to mention the girl’s day out last Sunday. I’m sure you were good for a few drinks then.” Dad released Cammie’s hand.

Mom fired back, “Maybe if you paid as much attention to me as you paid to your new secretary we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Cammie found her hands dangling alone.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t live in a movie, spending your days pining to your online friends about finding a soul mate, I wouldn’t have to.” Dad crossed his arms and huffed steam from his nose. Cammie imagined him an ancient Chinese dragon defending a massive pile of gold from would-be marauders.

Mom’s defeated shoulders dropped.

Dad pressed on, “Yeah, that’s right. I read your email. All of them! By the way, Y-O-U apostrophe R-E means you are while Y-O-U-R shows possession.”

“Well Y-O-U apostrophe R-E an asshole and you can shove Y-O-U-R wine up Y-O-U-R A-S-S!” Mom shouted.

Cammie couldn’t follow what was happening, but she felt uncomfortable and skated away from the pair along with every other visitor to the pond. The only thing comforting her now was the dark pink Lily Pulitzer jacket her grandmother bought her last year. She missed her teddy bear.

Words and gestured flew between Mom and Dad as Cammie skated off.

A commotion louder than the couple’s insults commanded a temporary truce.

“Pete, where’s Cammie?”

All four eyes searched the worn ice.

Dad stopped an untalented skater as he hurried toward the entrance, “What happened?”

“Someone fell through the ice. A kid maybe.” He tried to pull away, but Dad restrained him.

“Boy or girl? What did they look like?”

“I don’t know man. Young kid. Wearing a red or pink jacket.”

Mom pushed Dad to the ice, “This is all your fault!” She bolted into the crowd.

Dad tried to stand, but his skate pick caught in the ice during the fall and he twisted his knee awkwardly, “Damn ACL!”

“Cammie, hang on honey, I’m coming! Mommy’s coming!”

Dad watched as Mom pushed her way through the crowd. Two skaters fell, and Dad heard the ice groan.

Mom’s shrill faded as the commotion escalated. Dad saw people plunging branches into the water. Folks frantically waved to the shore beckoning for help.

Dad pounded on the ice, sobbing with each hammer fist strike.

The screams became inaudible, and he couldn’t tell where one rescuer began and another ended. Mom escaped his vision in the sea of jackets.

Again and again, he attempted to stand without success. Inch by inch he dragged himself toward the crowd until he caught a glimpse of a little girl out of the corner of his eye. He looked left and saw a girl Cammie’s size kneeling on the ice with mittens removed and a hand pressed against the transparent sheet of ice staring intently into the frigid waters below.

“Cammie?” Dad hesitated, “Cammie, is that you?”

Cammie watched as Dad crawled across the ice in her direction, “Hey, Daddy. I lost my jacket. Please don’t be mad.”

“It’s okay.” Dad sighed and the pain in his leg no longer mattered. “Peanut, are you okay? What are you doing?”

Cammie smiled wide and looked away from the ice for only a second, “Come see, Daddy. You’ll be so happy. Mommy and I are soul mates.”

     I pulled his pants down and was momentarily terrified by what I saw. I remember seeing a documentary about this once before but never believed it existed for real. Now it was staring me in the face. I had three seconds to make a choice: put it in my mouth or get up and walk out of that hotel room.

     Phuket was disappointingly touristy. So completely different from what I had imagined. My friends and I had finally made it to Thailand and we were staying at a Holiday Inn with hamburgers on the menu.

     We were drinking TsingTao beers at yet another dimly lit and smoky bar, one of those touristy places full of English-speaking travelers. We started chatting with a group of English men that were sitting next to us, one of which was Dan. He was blonde with light eyes and hilarious. Not traditionally attractive, but the more he made me laugh the hotter he became, and the more I liked him. I laughed harder than I thought possible. Phuket was finally starting to look good.

     Dan and his friends and me and my friends decided to go to another dark bar together. We ordered more TsingTaos and whiskey shots. Lots of Thai prostitutes. The soundtrack was one CD, playing the same ten songs on repeat. I was magnetized to Dan; he was one of those people that you instantly felt connected to, someone that made you feel at home.

     After the club, we all decided to go to the beach. It was empty and dark, nothing but the stars and the moon lighting the beach. The waves crashed in methodically, rhythmically. The weather was perfect, warm with just a little bit of humidity. My friends and Dan’s friends, all sensing what was about to happen, said their goodbyes and headed back to their respective hotels to leave us alone together. Dan went to get a six-pack of beer, and I laid right down in the sand the way only a drunk woman would.

     "Let’s go in the ocean!” I shrieked upon his return.

     “What ya gonna wear, your knickers?” Oh shit that British accent.

     “No… let’s just... just keep our clothes on. Come on! Swimming in the moonlight will  be insane!” I jumped up and started dragging him out to the water.

     “But I’ve still got my trousers on!”

     “Who fucking cares! Let’s just jump in in our clothes, it’ll be sexy.” I slurred on.

     I must have looked like one crazy bitch running into the water still wearing my Target dress. Surprisingly he came right after me into the warm water, and we finally kissed as the waves crashed over our fully dressed selves. We dove into the water with our lips locked. I grinded myself against his crotch, and was disappointed not to feel anything hard. We continued to make out, rolling in the sand, the moonlight bouncing off of us. We drank our beer on the beach, soaking wet and covered with sand.

     We held hands as we walked back to his hotel room together. He threw me on the bed and kissed me, hard and deep. His warm tongue was so deep in my mouth it sent flutters down my spine. I was drunk, and too forward. I asked if he had condoms. He said yes, and pulled one out of his wallet.

     "Oh, you guys have Durex in England too?" I asked.

     "Of course, dummy," he charmingly smiled, "What do you think we use, Mars Bars wrappers?"

     I laughed out loud and began to go down on him. I really wasn’t too sure what a Mars Bar was but I assumed it was a weird British candy of some sort. I kissed my way down, starting at his neck, then drunkenly kissed and licked his blond-haired chest. I made my way down further to what I was sure would be a hard penis, but I felt nothing. I was disappointed but determined to try harder. I ripped off his pants and boxers and found myself face to face with a real life motherfucking micro-penis.

     I hesitated for three seconds and then put it in my mouth. It was so small. No bigger than my thumb and at first I couldn’t figure out if it was hard or not. It was like sucking a fleshy finger.

     Why wouldn't he have told me? Wait, did he have to tell me? Life can be so unfair. I was so shocked by its small stature that I just continued to give him head, pretending like it was any old regular penis. He came so quickly and there was so much semen I was shocked.

     I was relieved that it was over. This freaky sexual experience was done and I could go back to my Holiday Inn hotel room. I kissed him and started to put my wet dress back on.

     "Wait, where ya off too?" he asked.

     "I was…uh.. gonna go." I muttered.

     "Oh, no. I'm not done with you yet."

     I was scared to death and unsure of what that really meant. He pulled out the Durex and slid it right on that taut tater tot. He looked at me, and expected me to get on top. I apprehensively tried to slide down on his penis, but couldn't really feel anything. He moaned in ecstasy, and I figured I should too.

     I rode that penis like it was the greatest sex of my life.

     He came hard, (again!) moaning and jerking. For some reason we couldn't find the condom after it was over. We gave up looking for it and laid down, and he spooned me in the kindest way, like a boyfriend. In the morning he woke me up tenderly, kissing my forehead. We got dressed and he walked me back to my hotel room, holding my hand the entire way, my dress still damp. Two whole days later I was peeing when the used condom plopped out in the toilet. Whoops! A fond reminder of all that fun I had with that fleshy, fantastic finger.