Diary of a Bondage Zombie
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Wednesday, June 25, 2003
::Prologue
The graveyard was quiet. Row after row of etched stone and marble monuments rose from the ground to point into the heavens, almost accusing in their silence. What breaks there were in the perfect rows contained massive willow trees, their far-reaching branches providing noticeable patches of darkness even with the thick clouds that sat low and heavy in the sky.The thick trees swayed as a chill wind blew over the graveyard and out towards the hills in the east. The tall grasses bowed as the wind swept away, making the expanse of wild grass around the cemetary seem like a rippling sea with a solitary island.
Sister Claren's black dress whipped in the wind, the shock of white lace around the knee-high hem waving around her black-stockinged legs. The sides were kept down by arms, held straight at her sides as she watched the tall figure of a young boy who was kneeling in front of a worn grave. It was his mother's, she knew, but she still couldn't help but feel a bit angry at his insistence on visiting it every year as if it were some penance. Again, she alone had been entrusted with these journeys of his along with her other duties.
At first she had been optimistic, that maybe this time the brooding adolescent would come to eventually trust her with these feelings, but Mikhail barely said three words to her in a row each day they journey to the cemetary. That alone was more taxing than even his rigorous schedule of training, schoolwork and devotions combined! Deep down, she feared that she didn't really deserve to be privy to those thoughts.
Despite his innocence, the fragile world he lived in was constructed of lies.
When Mikhail had learned about the process of birth, he had only asked vague questions about his mother. Slowly, he began to ask more and more probing questions until finally, in one of his lessons with the headmistress, he had offhandedly concluded that he wanted to see his real mother. From all of the accounts she had heard, the headmistress had turned pale as a ghost before sweeping out of the room like a hurricane is search of the unlucky Sister who administered his biology classes.
The Sisters had tried to talk him out of it, but shortly after his thirteenth naming day, when Sister Lilith became his teacher, he had made it clear that he would not be denied. However, instead of punishing him, the Sisters had eventually acquiesced and assigned her to accompany him on his journey. At first she had been dismayed that they would place so much trust in her, but even then she had been long used to such lofty responsibilities.
She could still remember the look on his face as he cried on her tombstone when he first touched it. From such a tender touch as his, the weathered rock had crumbled. Since then, he never cried when he reached the object of his pilgrimage. Instead he would only kneel or sit there and talk softly at the aged headstone, attempting to recount for his mother all that had happened in the year past. She didn't quite know why he did it; maybe it was because he felt more connected here, at her gravesight or maybe it gave him a degree of comfort to be near someone of his own family instead of the Sisters.
It would have warmed her heart if she didn't know that his mother couldn't really hear him. Even if she believed in such things, surely the ghost would have fled long since. Even the powerful shielding spell that had preserved this place from attack in the War of the Lost Age had long since crumbled. She spared herself a glance at the tomb which led to the catacombs where, she was taught, that He had been unearthed.
Mikhail came to his feet slowly, and it was a measure of her uneasiness that she flinched involuntarily. He stood a full head taller than Lilith's own unusually tall height, and despite the distance, she felt the aura of power around him. A wave of dizziness came over here and passed, but she was used to it. After all, she was the strongest and most talented at the convent. If anyone could do what had to be done, it was her.
Silently, as he did most things, he touched the index and middle finger of his right hand to his lips and then pressed them to letters of his mother's inscribed name.
Sister Claren mentally reminded herself to note that in the traveling log. As he turned toward her, she couldn't help but notice the collar around his neck. Even though she could probably draw it in her sleep, her eyes were always drawn to it; a black and ugly thing of metal and iron. It always gave her chills, she still vividly recalled the nightmarish visions she had the one time she had tried to touch it with bare skin. The Headmistress said it was an artifact from the lost age as old as, if not older than Mikhail himself
She snapped out of her reverie to find Mikhail's amber eyes peering at her curiously from under the unruly mop he called hair.
"Sister Lilith?" he asked curiously in his remarkably soothing alto-ranged voice. He was already well used to it, despite having changed only recently. He had quickly gone from cute to handsome as a long-overdue puberty quickly washed over him. Making up for lost time, it seemed.
That made two. He was always silent when they rode to the gravesite and more talkative afterwards.
For some reason, her eyes drifted back to the collar as stray sunbeam filtered through the tree canopy. For a second she thought she saw a...no, that was impossible. The implications were simply too ludicrous to consider.
"Sister Lilith?!"
"It's nothing," she replied, praying that her voice was as even as she tried to make it. One of her hands swept up to brush her almost boyishly short black hair away from her face and press it behind her ear before producing a hairpin to subdue it. "Let's be on our way, we have a long journey back home, and the sides of this crater are treacherous." A short distance away her horse, a deep-chested grey neighed as if in agreement. Even one second in this place was far too long for her.
After 500 years, it still reeked of death.
Sunday, June 22, 2003
My First Kiss
The fire crackled loudly, casting a light that made the uneven shadows dance at the edge of darkness. I had already eaten earlier on around the very same fire, but I felt a new desire rising in me. It was strange and exciting to me not because of it's newness of direction, but becase of it's intensity. I was in love and aside from being in love my libido was going berserk. Which is probably why I did what I did.
'She' sat beside me; the girl of my dreams and the source of the butterflies that slamdanced in my stomach. I wondered if she noticed me watching her all night. Of course she did, she had been looking back flirting in her usual passive-aggressive way. She turned to offer me some marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers.
"Thank you, " I said, dragging myself away from introspection to make everything seem natural and smooth. She grinned at me as I took them from her and made a small comment about how much she loved chocolate. Her eyes brushed mine and I looked away, blushing.
"S'mores gooood," I drawled in half-hearted Frankenstein Monster impression. I was rewared with a small giggle and my heart shuddered with pleasure.
I devoured a S'mores, sharing a bit of idle conversation with Haddy, that was her name, and a few others seated around the campfire. Most were my roomate Scott's friends, so I quickly turned my focus back to Haddy. We complained a bit about how the firesmoke kept on shifting with the wind and blowing in our faces.
Haddy got to her feet and warmed her hands on the fire and soon I found myself doing the same thing, simply for the sake of being near her as much as possible. The wind shifted and once again the firesmoke assaulted us, having had enough, we both wandered off into the darkness.
"Ugh, it's too cold," Haddy wrapped her arms around herself, her shivering breath misting as it left her mouth. I moved closer to her and started talking as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and buried my face in her hair. We both stared off at the blood-red full moon that sat low on the horizon.
"Beautiful moon out tonight," I said before adding that moon was 'tsuki' in japanese. She made a small noise in her throat.
"Why is it that color?" She tilted her head up just ever so slightly and I craned my neck around to look into her eyes. I can't remember what I said then, just that she nodded afterwards as if satisfied. We talked for a few more minutes about the world, the future and all the things that young people find themselves concerned about in their late teens.
Haddy pressed her body against mine and I found my hands around her lean stomach, just below her breasts. What happened next, I can't really explain.
My brother had always been a ladies' man and i've always been a student of the sexual arts and the not so sexual arts, even though I hadn't even kissed a girl yet up to that point. Most of the days of my life I can always remember my brother telling me what to do and what NOT to do with a girl. When I hadn't shown an interest even after his years of supposed tutelage, he just kind of acquiesced and passed me off for either a very late bloomer or gay. My parents just thought I was gay. I'm pretty sure they still do. So, when faced with the actual situation, everything went out the window.
My mind went into a mode of action I wasn't even aware of and I could feel it pulse along with my arousal.
"Haddy," I waited for her to respond. She made a small noise of acknowledgement. My senses extended. I could smell the delicate fragrance of clean and subtle perfumes that made up Dove soap. I could feel fear being trampled by desire and "I'm going to bite you." First, let me explain. The days before, my friends and I had gone out to the movies to take in Blade 2, which is definately a vampire flick. Aside from that, I had always been a bit interested in vampires and the neck is one of my favorite parts of the female body, and from my perspective the neck was a great place to start. She made a permissive sound.
I bit her, lightly scraping my canines across the side of her neck. I dimly recalled watching an old vampire movie on AMC with her a week prior. I sank my teeth into her again, brushing errant strands of hair out of my way and behind her ear with my fingertips. My gentle nip quickly turned into a flurry of kisses and nibbles that traveled slowly up her neck towards the jawline. Haddy tilted her head up as I made my way up and gasped as my cool hands found warm skin. I didn't really wonder how my hands had gotten past her coat and under her shirt. I gently caressed her stomach as my tongue traced the edges of Haddy's jaw. I realized that I was no longer thinking, only reacting to the plethora of small signals, the subtle changes in scent.
My kisses made their way to the side of her mouth and I lost temporary hold as she turned in my arms to look into my eyes shortly before her mouth found mine. We kissed. Once. Twice. My fingers traced the bumps of her spine and the telltale dip that heralded the beginnings of her buttocks. Then her tongue sought mine out and I could only try my best to keep up. I did. As my tongue massaged her own, I tentatively took the lead, trying some small tricks that I hoped were good. It was my first time and my mind was jello. The feeling was much more than I thought it would be.
It was then that the shaking started.
I had always considered myself pretty unflappable. I had always had a rather calm and collected disposition, even at funerals I never cried or changed my expression. I was notorious for it nothing seemed the phase me. I was determined to show my feelings towards a girl that I liked and I was scared as hell. Perhaps that was it. I was risking myself in a way that I had never done before. I was opening myself up to another human being by truly displaying my feelings and I couldn't keep a lid on it. So, I began to lose control of the left side of my body.
It started as a hairline shake until the entire left side of my body -- hand, foot, an all -- until even my most devoted efforts to control the shaking failed. Somehow, I managed to keep my badly shaking left hand in place, as I attempted to gently stroke the back of Haddy's neck. I shifted my weight to my right leg, still kissing and touching. Finally, we slowed enough to lapse back into idle convesation, punctuating most of our sentences with kisses and giggles. I wondered if everyone at the campfire was watching us. I wondered if I really cared. My left side still shook. I tried to ignore it.
I adjusted Haddy's glasses on my own face. I remembered taking them from her earlier on, so I could have free reign. I wrapped my arms around the small of her back, drawing her closer and locking my arms to try to minimize the shaking.
Tilting my head to the side, I sucked gently on her ear.
"Yum," I mumbled softly. She giggled softly and wrinkled her nose as she took stock of my new eyewear.
"You look like a professor with those on." she admitted fixing her sea-green eyes on mine. Her mouth twitched with a smile.
"Kinky," I laughed, my fingers massaging the bony plate in her lower back, right above the buttocks. My laughing cut off as her mouth found mine. I couldn't seem to recall what I had been laughing about to begin with.
Time itself seemed to drown in an ocean of kisses and soon the campfire was extinguished. Even as my roomate called my name, our tongues danced. Haddy and I giggled. I didn't want to leave. This was all I had ever wanted in my universe and to part with it would be a crime.
But, eventually, we did. My fingers, still shaking, unlocked and my hand found hers and quickly tangled themselves together. We spoke with more than just words, but with smiles and squeezes and flashing eyes. My heart composed more love songs and poems than anyone could possibly write down.
That weekend, we met many more times and said many things. We kissed and held each other and exchanged words that I truly meant and still do. I remember how hurt I was when I said the words that she couldn't. That weekend was the last time we held each other.
Time passed and we drifted farther apart physically and emotionally. As such things go she dumped me, but I couldn't say I was surprised. Even after weeks of preparing for the inevitable it cut me like a knife. It still does. I said I loved her and I still do, but I've already come to grips with the fact that I have to move on with my life.
It's my opinion that real love never really goes away. It just changes into something else with the same name.
