A Cat’s Tail of October

“Your cat is on the bed!”

“Yeah.”, my eyes closed feeling every bit of it beyond measure.

“She’s doing her Alpha cat bit.  No worries, she won’t embarrass you.”

Shit.  Please not another one of these…

“That’s just weird.  Here I am humping your balls off…”

“Yes, and loving it too…”

“Oh yeah.  It kinda creeps me out…”

I fell asleep after we came.  I have been going hard for longer than most people live.  There was black metal in the background from my almost infinite finite playlist.

I felt out of body in another dimension.  In another body.  It felt like me and didn’t and certainly didn’t look like me.  What?  How am I seeing myself feeling like I am inside this body, not a share mind you?
I am now feeling the doom which precludes the insane plunge out of control into the vortex of the abyss.  It feels like a dry retching of blood and intestinal content gases.  Needing to vomit and not able.  It feels like an endless cycle of the pain of knowing I am dead, body still feeling it…

“Everything always made perfect sense when we connected in this trance.  Sorry, I know you like to call it a state.  However, this state comes on automatically with multiple anchors.  We don’t miss…”

I could feel the greatest pleasures we’d ever had…there seemed to be almost endless memories merging into one scenario. Now touching her again when something with a pungent stench grabbed her in less than a blur.  She’s gone wow.

A giant black paw with beyond razor-sharp claws now swiped out in front of me.

A great burst of opalescent slime squirted and filled the fields I perceived, and I felt like I was in a vacuum, safe.  The great claws swiped through all the doom and I awoke to a cold feline nose and what might soon become mewing. 

There she stands, ready to squeak meow, looking at me with golden eyes.  I feel safe.  The woman is snoring turned away from me on her side.  It feels comfortable.  We’ll have quite a bit more pleasure.

The tiny black Bombay Cat moved to the foot of the bed, laying down, her head in the other dimension.  On watch.

 

©2017mhumunculero

 

Coffee, coffee and devil’s cake too…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

amodern devil

The coffee shop opened at 5 am.

 

She had done an all – nighter preparing for another useless business task at a price that fills the pockets of her masters.

Someone else came up out of the earth at that moment. Heavy density, the origin like gravity, like the 4th force of the universe. He, She, it, animate, inanimate, phantom like yet harder and denser than the most dense matter from the stars. This life form he was dealing with had reached a its dead end. Of course, this often happens with many species. They reach a point where they cannot adapt and survive Will these humans evolve into another humanoid like form? Will they be able to adapt to the conditions they have created in their foolish lack of forsight?  

Not to worry, it would feel nice to do some whimsical things.

It reached into itself and pulled out several scenarios.

In this moment, a handsome young man made his way to the coffee bar. Behind him came our female friend lost in her anxiety over finishing her work project. She could smell him, sending a warm wave from her third eye to her groin. She saw herself with this man, whereupon he turned around. He very gently placed a hand in the small of her back. He looked into her eyes, and she pressed her mouth on his, touching the tip of his tongue with hers.

This was like a dream come true. How could this happen this way? How could this happen so quickly?

He ordered his coffee with his arm around her waist, she nuzzling her nose and lips into his neck. She felt very secure and confident for what she had to do in an hour and a half and he ordered exactly what she wanted without having to ask. They got their coffee and retired to a table outside obscured from the view of others. They took a few sips of their coffee, staring each into each other’s eyes, hands touching. She had on a skirt to her knees, no panties; a plaid with blues, greens and black with a black skin tight top, no bra. Her voice made his cock rock hard. She sensed it and opened his pants, freeing it in into the morning air. Her right hand found the tip giving the motion, which is perfect for him while his tongue probed her mouth, leaving the coffees on the table. Soon she was in his lap, burying his cock in her wet quim, and squeezing it with the muscles made fit from those hundreds of thousands of Kegels she did for years. They kissed wildly. Her vagina massaged that rock hard pulsing penis and felt the cum rising out of his balls several times, which she halted mid shaft, giving him the shivers of body orgasms she was experiencing. For some reason, this drew people walking by.

People pulled in, parked, getting out of their cars, getting some coffee of their own, some of them engaging in their own orgies and couplings. Meanwhile, on the street, two cars smashed head on with a fire truck close behind them, full of firefighters also after their coffee. They parked mid street, walked in and ordered before they extracted the injured and dead from the wreck.

Our friend from up out of the earth was laughing now. Here once again, some sex and death with a decrepit species. It wasn’t the great energy fucks he was used to in his interdimensional travels. Not so unlike other lower life forms he encountered, conjugating and fucking and exchanging genetic information. This is a species fast becoming infertile. Not only in body, also in thinking and neuro evolution. It felt pleasant to watch death filling the street with blood and shit from spilled guts, and to feel the fucking and the bodily fluid exchange from those who were oblivious to the carnage which had occurred outside.

Now in another dream on another day, the new POTUS and his cronies had gathered together to cause the destruction of the administration they hated so much. In this moment, the generals and the elite strike force they created needed for such a coup and execution, rushed into the room, weapons raised, killing all. At that point, another weapon was introduced, which disintegrates organic matter, and all traces of them vanished. Not even dust remained.

Back at the coffee shop on that other day, people changed partners and continued to fuck and fuck and fuck. The firefighters watched and drank their coffee. The cops showed up, the forensics team showed up. A lady coroner arrived who should have been a pin up in some men’s magazine from the 1950s. She grabbed the battalion chief on the fire truck who was another pin up from the calendars some cougar women hang on their walls. They grabbed each other and lay in the blood and shit and piss in the street and created a fuck fest spectacle that even the worst scat porn people will shit their pants watching….

 

 

 

©Copyright 2017 Humunculero

She does and can

She fucked me and I slept well.

Yes, she crawled in my bed with me after a couple of days of affection.  She lay next to me enjoying her sleep, having her rest.  And there in a presence of “maybe he’ll wake up and we’ll have a passionate three-day fuck and love fest”, I did wake up with a throbbing hurt.  It seemed so proud like a blurred vision for some and sharp for others of an ever-lengthening Priapus moment.  We celebrated each other. I knew her every inch, passionately in touch, smell and the vision and sounds of her writhing in ecstasy.

She had little use for my compassionate masculinity of well lived in BALLS.

She held tightly and kissed perfectly.  She grasped the explosions of my innermost fuckIloveyouandyouknowitastrue.

When she isolated and separated temporarily I got busy for my day like always.  It always worked in the end and at least served as a reminder about keeping on and moving forward no matter what.  In good faith, it didn’t work to take anything to do with her personally.  Both of us did what we thought we wanted to do almost regardless of consequences which got fewer and fewer in keeping our word to ourselves.  Yes, there occurred anger and consternation.  Yes, we argued at lower and lower volume. Yes, we planned better than make up sex.

I got to act like a force field around her vulnerability.  Just presence and appreciation makes it work.

It generates in parts from both of us.

She came through the field with creative action enthralling everyone in various ways.

 

 

 

©humunculero2017

Honesty and Dishonesty

The facts are in – almost everyone acts dishonest at least occasionally.

Seemingly most of it entails situations which don’t have much importance to the individual lying.

So those of us who think we practice complete honesty and transparency may find ourselves from time to time lying or engaging in something not quite transparent. 

The Matrix Experiment found most people will cheat to some extent

https://www.elsevier.com/editors-update/story/publishing-ethics/a-fascinating-experiment-into-measuring-dishonesty

 

“Over 40,000 people, from all walks of life, participated in The Matrix Experiments.

What did we find?

  • On average, people solved four problems but reported solving six.
  • Nearly 70% cheated.
  • Only 20 out of the 40,000 were “big cheaters”, people who claimed to have solved all 20 problems. They cost the experiment $400.
  • We also found more than 28,000 “little cheaters” who cost the experiment $50,000.”

One study has shown up to 60% of people lie

“The study, published in the journal’s June issue, found that 60 percent of people lied at least once during a 10-minute conversation and told an average of two to three lies.”

https://www.umass.edu/newsoffice/article/umass-amherst-researcher-finds-most-people-lie-everyday-conversation

Men and women lie for distinct reasons:

““Women were more likely to lie to make the person they were talking to feel good, while men lied most often to make themselves look better,” Feldman said.”

” “It’s tied in with self-esteem,” says University of Massachusetts psychologist Robert Feldman. “We find that as soon as people feel that their self-esteem is threatened, they immediately begin to lie at higher levels.”

https://www.livescience.com/772-lie.html

So possibly it boils down to self-esteem.  If our self-esteem gets mostly genuine and we practice impeccability with our words, thoughts and actions we might lie a little bit less.  In doing this it gets very helpful to realize while we aim for 100% honesty, the first step of this may come in remaining honest with ourselves and when we discern we have lied to ourselves, stop it at the level of belief and thought so the poison doesn’t flow well from our mouths.  This means non-judgement, positive or negative.  It also means we will do our best to practice feeling loving toward ourselves individually.

In my own life, this provided an opportunity to use honesty to improve my life.  In work, it meant telling the truth about products and services so customers could make their decision based on facts with little embellishment.  It also meant telling my friends and family the truth more consistently.  Mostly I found I had to say less.  I didn’t have to support anyone with false embellishments or unnecessary compliments as making someone feel better about themselves with a lie will sooner or later get discovered and my credibility with them would suffer and the relationship would weaken seriously.

I have looked at my beliefs about myself.  The teachings from parents as a child served as helpful contradictions.  My mother gave me statements about me being a special person with extraordinary talent and ability and my father told me I would never amount to anything unless I learned to work hard for everything and this would start with deprecating statements about my behavior.  I had a lot of shame to overcome and it’s not all gone.  This affords me the opportunity to work with it consistently.

A new belief which helped me had to do with first accepting I had ultimate worth on the eternal scale of value, this served me until the realization came regarding the nonexistence of self.  No self, no self-esteem needed.  This contradicted the pop psychology of its reverse theories.  In this model, all seems connected to doing and actions which come from beliefs, thought, and feelings.  Seemingly we a feedback cyclicity of thoughts producing feelings and behaviors feeding back on prevailing beliefs many of which wound up erroneous.  In changing the beliefs and stopping the limiting thoughts from guiding actions I had to do less to keep myself honest.  It also meant offering less up in unsolicited feedback, something which seemed to prevail in the “meetings” of the twelve-step cult I attended for a couple of decades.  One of the best actions I took had to do with getting away from it and the toxicity in words spoken there, when really the only thing which worked well came from the love in unspoken support.  Knowing I am loved and encouraged to love myself made me feel love for myself and others almost unconditionally.

Since moving on from there I have made beneficial and limiting decisions about my life and I dedicate myself, imperfectly, to improving beliefs, thinking, and behaviors and calling up humble, loving feelings for myself.  Much of this has come in taking better care of my body and general health.  Along the way I have been able to genuinely help some others, giving me more loving feelings in general.

In the ongoing set of conclusions, having a multifaceted set of perspectives helps me to less judgmental conclusions and statements.  Looking at what I say based on observations before I say them – this takes a lot of mindfulness to do it effectively and I have sometimes gone to almost angry extremes to defend my stated perceptions about situations only to have to make amends for the behavior in stopping myself from doing it again and making things right in my best way possible.

Honesty it seems, ought to concern the truth and truth comes from knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt.  Reporting what happened, how I thought and felt seems like about all I can do regarding this.  Mostly, I strive to practice concise brevity as it gets too easy to slip into conjecture and verbose rhetoric.  In the utmost sense it looks like the less I believe about anything, the better as it leaves me more open to varied interpretations and perceptions which may have more objectivity.  If this seems self negating and contradictory, that will turn out a reader perspective.  I tend to characterize it more as a paradox like many other things human.

Everything-we-hear-is-an-opinion-not-a-fact.-Everything-we-see-is-a-perspective-not-the-truth.-Marcus-Aurelius

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©2017MHumunculero

A THREE-FOLD FILTER

In my most existentialist beliefs, I learned to view my “self” (egoistic construct as coping mechanism?) in three relationships.

  1. my relationship to myself

  2. my relationship to others

  3. my relationship to God or divine source

All of this I had pondered as a teenager, who, having massive insecurities, questioned my consciousness and the illusion of existence.  Mahayana Buddhist philosophy seemed a way toward the inner peace of knowing I didn’t exist and nothing was real.  My job seemed about learning and practicing the eight-fold path, in the NOW.  Much of this awareness seemed to come from psychedelic experiences.  In short, the best trips involved the knowing and feeling of connectedness to the fundamental forces which unify the seeming ALL.  Later, in discovering the Eight circuits of consciousness in Leary’s model, it seemed I had bounced between the seventh and eighth circuits in the perceptions of in and out of body experiences, missing a much of the sixth circuit (metaprogramming).

The main divine connection felt like the motherlode of all, the feeling of complete connectedness which started physically and eventually got perceived as “pure” consciousness.  This perception and how it feels remains tangible and at once unfathomable and infinite beyond physical perception.  To label it otherwise seems like a blasphemy except for purposes of illumination.  It can take many forms which can work to model traits, actions and characteristics of various entities in the accomplishment of my purpose.  Finding purpose seemed the fundament, even though the “I” had little idea as such.

I acted in vain to define myself through others and my relations to them.  This reality tunnel mostly failed because I had little purpose and no realization of its presence or formation.  In this my ego gravitated to self-annihilation in a limited set.  This wound up in self-deprecation and self-loathing to the point of the desire to painlessly dissolve and disappear from this world.  This state proved painfully unrewarding.  It seemed like a denial of hedonism giving only frustration, shame, and depressions which seemed unending. Still trapped in the belief telling me intellectual understanding provided a solution and solace little progress occurred.

It must have happened via too much drug use in various combinations this thinking eventually said as the beliefs of parents, professionals and preachers worked as the predominant patterns.  Charismatic Christianity and the attendant nonsense served like a way out of the mess of all of it in my early twenties leaving only too much angst about life.  Finally, it gave way to some lesser materialist viewpoints of those around me and I once again took on the phony embrace of my perception of the American Dream.  My earlier pre-Christian views got submerged beneath the religiosity and my hypocritical practice of it.  Once again, more angst about life.

In my early and mid-thirties, it seemed apparent this way of living did not work well and my obligation to personal responsibilities slipped out the window.  Finally, at thirty-four years old a basic plan emerged.  Get away from the drugs and people who use drugs.  I did it and exchanged that addiction to the cult obeisance of the cult of Narcotics Anonymous.  This I embraced along with intellectual and contrived meditations of the Tao, seen and unseen.  The eight-fold path also got corresponded with the 12 Steps of NA, at first seemingly very open and accepting of other correspondences to the cult.  Fortunately, the most powerful tool in overcoming addiction – peer support worked to knock the malady down and got me to realize the self I had formed previously and presently.  I saw the folly of attempting to discover my “true self” and who I am or had been and the overblown significance in my belief system in those times.  After years of practice in those steps and living the lies of an apologist via tolerating believers, I knew I didn’t have a disease and the “program” as very toxic unless adapted to a more humane, less self-deprecating model.  I sought less and less peer approval in developing self-esteem and began to live my life as I saw fit with confidence.  It took about fifteen to twenty years to realize the program didn’t serve me and I didn’t need to count votes pro or con amongst peers who remained or left the “Program”.  In this a self-got realized and actualized.  I had an identity with less contrivance out of social, professional, and familial acceptability.  I had embarked on a more genuine relationship with myself with less ego traps.

Still, there seemed a great deal of selfishness so I consistently performed unselfish acts.  Some had ulterior motive in a caretaking sense, others out of duty to others, and others still for the joy of doing something unselfishly.

In the mid to late teens, I wanted to depend on others for my view of myself instead of using them as a reflection of my actions and attitude which I grew into later. It seemed to get out of control in my mid-twenties to early thirties due to self-delusions resulting in erroneous perception filters and erratic actions.  I took everything too personally, felt threatened constantly and used my words as poisoned munitions against myself and others – beliefs and behaviors which have taken many years to replace.  Today, still a work in progress.

I have much affection for many friends, family, and lovers.  I attempt to find out what makes them feel loved and if it doesn’t compromise my self-care, I give to them.  It gets a little tough when I engage with people who have behaviors which I tend to take personally so I strive to stay away from those situations and appreciate them at a safe distance.  In my drive to be loved by others, I must pay attention and determine if I am seeking reciprocation from the unwilling and willing yet incapable of it.  Most of my disappointments with others have origins in the latterly so constant vigilance with a minimum, if not devoid of self-judgement seem necessary.

From this value comes in taking care of me so I can serve others and myself in a realization of the all connectedness I feel when out of the self-created anxieties of daily life.

©2017mhumunculero

Zard origins or the beginnings of beginnings

azard land

 

 

“We have an interest in you Mondo…”

 

The voice was resonating into the top of his head, “What will you do when we tell you all? We must have to start somewhere in your own terms. Our race has evolved an inter-species from two species of different worlds and the primordial human genomes as we can explain it to you. We are related to you more than you know and you can have offspring with us in our female like forms. We have seven differing “sexes” as you might call them. Five of them are more female like than male with three exclusive female multi sexes when have seven complimentary pairs of chromosomes defining sex. All of them work mutably with conscious input…”

“I’m absorbing, as you can tell, this shit just fine. If you’re looking for a sperm donor, I think my swimmer count is low, owing to the age of the germinal epithelium and its ability to reproduce those little bastard makers. I find it interesting you’d want to breed with me. My DNA is loaded with most of the human DNA on the planet as you no doubt know. As long as I get to fuck these females and it’s a good time, I think I’m in…”

“HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA, HAHAHAHAHAH…human males, always thinking about the neural payoff. And of course, we know you give off theta and gamma waves which heal and transform and create interspecies larvae in the information stream.”

“Should be a hella good time with you lizard bitches, I can feel me pulsing like a longer jizzing version of a boar cock. Squirting out little entities filled with the accumulated tasks and the abilities to make them real outcomes. We’ve turned shit into shinola and bio lead into bio platinum, hate into love, and indifference into universal compassion. We’ve made nightmares into daydreams and daydreams into new worlds where Gods are monsters and Monsters eat Gods like I do demons. Roping them and earring them down like horses and calves. Yeah, this is a fuckfest magical rodeo complete with chimeric spawn. I think I am gonna sink my teeth into your scaly, slick, soft neck skin and hold you like a stud horse mounting a horsing mare… Oh yeah.”

She-it-they grasped him gently with their sharp razored talons and breathed an ether into his mouth, anus, and into his urethral opening, causing his transformation and the sprouting of a second cock slightly below his current member. They got hurt my balls hard and she-it-they grabbed both, sliding them into her cloaca which bifurcated and sucked up both cocks, elongating them to dual cervices. She then began a vaginal serpentine series of undulations on his penises, moving in harmony, teasing and testing the very best she-it-they offered. After many long moments of variations and new synthesis a load like he’d never shot rose out of his balls which had turned greenish purple grapefruit sized. She-it-they writhed in their own multiple sets of ecstasy you’d have had to have been there to understand as it was multidimensional in content. , he contributed and she manufactured and delivered it.

Two hours later.

“Goddamn! You make my

shit explode. I feel like I could fuck a hundred more times and like I am a dead ton of flesh on the downside shift.” He had rolled off her backside and she smiled back at him, a lizard woman turning fashion model, black metal star gorgeous now with a seemingly singular physicality.

“Mondo, this is not all we will do with you. We will lay an egg and hatch a lizard bitch internally. The egg will hatch out a monsterling which fast grows into a creature of a similar look to me, complete with mature mentality. For as you shall learn this means works as one of our portals to recreating and synthesizing our previous forms. In this we find a longevity approaching immortality. We come from interior realms in the earth’s core. A network of cities beneath the earth, completely self-sustaining and networked with our kinds throughout our meanders through this galaxy and others…”

“Yeah, I sure feel something more than the four worlds I already walk in now. Like I could warp into other dimensional realms more easily than the most technical magic I have ever used or developed before this. Wow, I just went and came back…it seems I left for quite some time! What the fuck???”

She beguiled with a smile a voice with crappy small guitar amp sounding reverb. He almost expected her to sport a paper mache head of some lizard from a bad, 1950s sci-fi grade z film.

He had been in a different body and part of a set of many minds, now a set of different bodies with many identities living in different worlds, shifting between them at intervals the average human would see as so many fast occurring images like blurred video in analog translations. At once, a colonial set of higher life forms with a networked consciousness, riding on information streams.

And now he was that old Star moving from star cluster to galaxy clusters to the garden where the little flowering star had come back to orbit for a great long span of star moments. She shined upon him and inside of him and birthed little stardust gas clusters which became new galaxies out of her little flowering blue – green starbursts. He absorbed the essence of all this and lived this like star occurring living forms do and do and do…

 

 

to be continued.

©2017mhumunculero

almost = no game

Rolling ahead turbines whining at super cellular speeds

Clamors of drift taking drains on consciousness

Living always in the past latencies

Star sky impressions lights long past

Fortitudes of madness

latitudes of grift and consequence

Sequenced in advantages received

Final sets of hundreds of stroke climaxes

The axis of spot hits enervated

plus-plus up, up

Down deeper

Deeper down, deeper, down deeper,

HARDER

Into the encasements

Even so too much seems unaccomplished

The little done gets undone

Lack of desire and effort

A user gone to disuse,

The delay of dreams explained

Moments wasted…

Ohhhhhh and the hundreds of others better feeling

A residue of smiles and invitations of returned pleasures,

The seizures of restorative ecstasy.

©2016mhumunculero

Nice eh?

It seemed so nice on this autumn day.  Like most things seemingly tragic or catastrophic, a great entropic moment would happen as so many had before.

So sad it felt to see so many with great opportunity in front of them cast them aside for emotional whimsy. To fabricate and exaggerate statements into lies and hurtful hate like a poison to destroy friendships.  Some friendships are stronger than deceitful and hurt based treachery.  Too many felonious behaviors come from these distortions and deletions of speech.  So much so they become value judgement generalizations which turn into the lies which attempt to destroy love.

The seeds for the compassion and kindness which nullifies the deep pain from which all these things ensue had been planted in the past by the thoughtful event planner.  Deviating the course of events before their onset had great result in the lesser determined future. 

Now, the bonds would change and there would occur nor persist fetters which hinder the growth of love and simple commitment.  Poisonous repeats of poison words would come back to curse the distorter and deletist via lack of a solution.  There would be no harm, no victim, only the responsible.  Those who repeat statements of malignment from the point of view of the black mirror, ignoring the white mirror assessment would find themselves burned by their instigations and prevarications…

The defenses would not be needed, nor would the attacks succeed.  The hypersensitivities would show themselves as insecurity and narcissism.  All attempts to divide would dissipate into more loyalty.

For all the fucks given and lost

In the space between pain and the distraction from pain,

In eyes that want something they’ll see; the delusion of what they think they’ve gotten.

It got a little too worn out,

There was no party in the pain the chemicals eventually caused,

And living with pain did not make it bearable.

It made pain too much less a pleasure to achieve any worthy result.

 

So in others…causing pain worked for some moments,

Losing the illusion it had a luster of pleasure,

So someone told me they had to have those cigarettes and the

Booze rotting their guts and brains,

And all I saw seemed like tarred lungs and a besotted bleeding brains

And their tears of ongoing calamity and cheap melodrama unnecessary,

The musing fell off like piss and shit down a toilet,

I got grateful for the flushing.

 

Afterward sitting in rooms full of the self-piteous victims and their next would be perpetrators,

Triangulated by other perp-victims,

Waiting in line for a turn at that pain which looked like pleasure…

 

In all that nonsense, I saw you there and we conversed and got in rapport,

We seemed supported and cared for and we fucked and attempted to love,

And for quite some great collection of moments we loved and we fucked,

And we gave one another great pleasures,

You saw me through my demise coming through to live,

I could not see you through your madnesses and wonts to kill yourself,

It all seemed to go on the pain as you go delay plan

While I consumed your pussy in prolonged yet attenuated pleasure,

Leaving you to narcissism and the torture of boys with hateful mothers,

So she brought herself to me in longer years to come and come;

Hundreds of times she came easily,

Her pleasure blessings, longing for the

Divine blessing she found in the lesser resurrection

Forgoing my morning erections,

For the torture of an imaginary God friend’s love which never existed,

An egregore of delayed dissatisfaction,

Losing the mixture of our fluids during and after that which transcends the fucking.

 

Then you came and left too much,

Everything seemed important excepting the coupling you thought you cherished,

And you cringed at my pains and anger at the frustrations with living beyond all that,

So the relatives became more important and you and I less so…

 

Before this I saw a different you.

I had loved you long realizing later and sooner your narcissism would come to no good,

And watched your pain pill withdrawals and chemical driven obesity,

Briefly interrupted by a great many short orgasms and long deep comings,

And a desire for me to take care of you in ways which no Man can or would,

You paused our plodding at love with a night out wrong,

Seemingly dishonest like before,

And before when the real magicks seemed so driven and important

And the other males you wanted failed you,

And your husbands failed you,

And I left you before you could lie and say I failed you

While you continued to fail yourself

And wander painfully toward death on installments,

I distained at killing your distractions as they would come like endless ocean waves…

 

Now you come, fucking yourself over

Killing the endearing parts running from what works,

In the spoils of indulgence, wasted

Loving the devil of me,

Loving me as a Man,

So in this opus of your fatal deprecations,

The anchors of would be sorrows of this die before engulfing me,

And so we are gods, so we are partners…

While I go beyond divinity,

While I find some peace in my physical pains

And sorrow in mother’s death,

And my old good friends death caused by the same victim path

Killing you all so slowly

So slowly

In self-hateful murder disguised as suicide whilst

I kill my ego one more time…

WinonaRyder@SexAndDeath101

©mondohumunculero 2015

the doorway

daath

This morning felt a little unsettling…

Some days started very well. Some male would spend the night…the sex was usually good. All this wound up short lived to a good end.

This morning, outside the door some kind of disturbance had appeared as though some kind of portal was opening from another place. She hadn’t walked out yet. She felt it and when she peered out the window she could see the shifting warping space.

She was thinking about HIM.

He stayed in her mind, only as a pleasure at a safe distance. He wouldn’t move to her. He wouldn’t come get her. He wanted her in his domain. It felt so safe and comfortable to love him with all her power and her passion, knowing he would be there regardless of situations and who they chose to be with at any time. When she wanted his love, she thought of him and felt it. She could feel his body behind hers, holding her when convenient and needed. She wanted him and was content at a distance…

“Fwwwhhhhpppppp!!!” The front door shut tightly, sealing the inside of the house from the head and wind.

“Ahhhh, I love my home.” The little black Bombay Cat starting with her high pitched mewing brushed his pant leg….

“Kitten! You do love your daddy heh?”

He sat down his black leather, soft brief case and walked to the master bedroom and into the bathroom to unload a voluminous piss and change clothes. He thought of her and sighed. He knew she loved him and how much more it would increase had she come here to live and flourish in his presence. She already had this too safely…she had no idea of the emotional dangers in him. She liked this excitement in the right context where excitement ends in the right type of pain for her and eventually pleasure.

She felt content as his muse. She viewed his sexual escapades for years and served as a friend, knowing deep inside there would be so much more, so much more.

And so she found her pleasure in other men without the complete fulfillment…

Damn it felt good to shake it out, to relax, and to ease into another evening.

If he could just walk into the next room into another place other than through a dream…

Weeks before in a mountain cave, the creature grew three faces; serpent, eagle, and bear. A Chimeric body of elephant, giraffe, and dragon wings…with flocks of Fire tailed swallows to gather all desired outcomes and artifacts of enchantment. It would be called by the chant and the entity it came from.

 

Like a special treat spread before him a meal of delights…

“You have the most special talents…I love it, I love my Oso…” She sank back into the purple sheets moving closer to the peaks so many have not experienced.   The doorway opened.

As this happened, he fell in the vortex of pleasure, sucked in…she came again and again, squealing in a set of colloquialisms he semi understood…she couldn’t take any more, he eased off, stood over the edge of the bed, pushing back the chair he’d sat in…

“Now my time has come…” His mind was whirling into the abyss, his entities of health, wealth, and sexual pleasure dancing about him while he chanted their mantras under his breath.

He grasped the erect, congested staff of throbbing, oozing deliveries of sex love guiding it into her with a deliciously slow deliberation…

“Oi, oi, oi…ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh…”

He began the rhythms he learned she loved and pulsed deeper and deeper seeing doorway after doorway open in and out of the abyss.

“Daaaaaaaaaatttttthhhh…” he said in a whispering growl, “Daaaaaaaaattttthhhhhh”.

She reached another set of plateaus and the muse flittered subconsciously into her body, expanding and taking the ecstasy into her consciousness as love, the kind of love that comes only through touch and a deep trance.

The elixir began its inexorable mixing as the man goo rose up out of his balls and he convulsed and shouted while squirting deep into her final throes of bliss that melted into her smile, eyes closed.

“Mamasota~!!!”

He lowered himself forward, face down to feel the next ten minutes of his body orgasm, falling through the doorway into the space outside her door.

She looked out at him, eyes beautiful and brown soft, “How the fuck did you get here?”

He began to laugh…

 

©2015mhumunculero

To be continued…