Vampyra - Queen of the Goths

‘I want to fuck you right now,’ I say to his Majesty. He smiles but makes me wait, as it is only 3 in the afternoon and we have many tasks left to make the domicile a palitable place to be.

‘When can I fuck you?’ I ask in desperation about 5 o’clock.

‘Soon,’ he says smiling.

‘Right! That is it, get up those stairs, I’m going to fuck you!’ I frog march him to our chambers at 11:30. I massage him and he kisses me passionatly, he’s wondering hands tell me that he is perhapse more horny than I, probably due to the fact I had resorted to a good wank at least three times during the day - my libedo having gotten out of control and not allowing me to think beyound the glorious cock.

I shudder at his touch and he is groping for the condoms.

‘Would you do me a favour?’ I ask silkenly.

‘Maybe,’ he says teasing a nipple through my bedroom parafornallia, somehow I was still clothed.

‘Be some authority figure for me?’

‘Like?’

‘Oh I don’t know a teacher or priest or farmer?’

‘Farmer?’

‘Yes.’

‘How are they authroitive?’

‘When they tell their milk maids what to do!’ The King rolls his eyes.

Catholic Priest teacher decided upon we commense with lights out - obviously individual rooms for the girls rather than a big communial dorm.

And then he is groping me in the dark, I did not know what he was going to do, nor when, the suspense was glourious, magnifying the erotic effect ten fold.

Then he is whispering how he watched me getting change and how hard it had made him, and then his is on top of me all hands and kissing, all warmth and persaussion. He pins me down to masturbate me and I wiggly and squirm. Fearful and yet desiring the orgasim I feel building. Stupid me, I manage to push him away before I crest. Just aswell as we had just changed the sheets.

He pins me down as I try to escape his ardous attentions, and then he is gently probing with his phallus, gently searching for my hole and then he has found it. He is then ramming it in as fast and hard as he can and I am over come with the buety of the act. My body arcs itself to him, my legs seek to entwine us for eternity but then he is coming and our union has been too breif, though wonderfully intense.

I now have the mark of a stigmata though it is nothing religous and I apologise to those I have offended with this comment - however, that is exactly what it looks like!

My stupidness flared up over the sillyest of things - yet again. Frustration boiled within as my pride over what I had achieved did again crumbled to dust and the drought of inner hatred and pain began. I was trying to be good, your Queen does not like to let her subjects down so she was determined once again not to allow this idiotic behavour to over run her.

Yet again she failed.

I was trying to distract myself by drawing intracact designs around my finger nails, my poor chewed to patheticness nails. The King was talking to me gently on his lap, he was broaching a topic he knew would upset me but that never the less needed approaching at midnight (or so he says).

Annoance at him flared in me.

Some time later I found I still had the pen and being the complete incompetance that I am I stabbed myself in the palm of the hand. Brillient, like we can afford me to FUCK Up my hands anymore than my back problems already cuase them to be.

What the hell was I thinking? Oh thats right I was not thinking at all - was I?

The King later asked about the mark and I jokingly said it was my stigmata acting up again and to my astonishment he says solomly, ‘Ah yes Easter is coming up again isn’t it?’

This startled me and I felt the Da ja vu of my childhood pour down upon me, I remember the need to see the stigmata though of course we were of the more ’sensible’ version of Chirstianity that did not think of such things as real. Never the less it was a burning desire in me and one that I feel was not healthy in the slightest.

I felt that if I were capable of feeling the pain of christ, of somehow taking just a small part of it away from him then my inate evil would somehow be cured - that my existance would have a perpose and I would not be some shameless creature with the twisted perverse soul. The images that I carried in my head - the dreadful images maybe they too would stop.

I knew that it would only come to the most piose and so I suffered within myself but my evil drove it away and I was left wanting to inflict the injuries upon myself - something I would not have done, not out of fear of a God I felt was very different from the uncaring vengeful god I was shown in Sunday school, but of misleading others who did truelly believe.

I wanted to believe, maybe if I could unconditionally believe then the pain that broke me from the inside out every day would go away? But alas it was not to be - I studied hard the stories of the Bible and the more I read the worse my doubts became.

And now the Hopeful Agnostic lives with the scares of the guilt complex laid down in a too religous upbringing. To be fair I have more than a twisted view of Christianity as the Tormetor used it to frighten me, to show me how evil I was and as the scared little child broken and corrupted in her wake I was taken to Religous Camps for brainwashing and I wanted the peace I saw there but it was for me unattainable.

I have been dreaming of being trapped upstairs reading text books when there is a cry from downstairs and the Lady is down there -except she is a small child instead of a toddle. She is in the company of twin toddlers. When I escape from upstairs I am happy and hug them all - so happy that I have twin babies as well as the Lady.

My broodyness has reached epic proportions and I feel pregnant, I even feel the little faint flutters and yet how can I be? I am having periods, yes we had a scare but it was mostly in my head becuase I want to be pregnant, even though the thought of it fills me with fear of how to cope and of physical survivial.

I want more children. I love the Lady and I miss having a smaller baby as she is almost a child and that is lovely too - I would not swap her or her wonderful developement for anything. I do not even particually want the baby stage, I want the children more but one comes from the other. I would love to foster but the domicile is too small and so that will have to wait also.

The King and I made empassioned love and lay there in each others arms, we snuggled and begain a conversation forgetting the golden rule of instant with-drawal. For the first time since we started going out we had a condom left behind as he became flacid a fact we had failed to notice whilst we chatted.

This has not helped my broodyness, nor my stresful/panic levels. I am confussed and go from joy to dispair at the thought of being pregnant. I know we should get a test but I know that either result will have me in dispair and so we do not and continue in stupidity.

The doctor was very very specific about seeing them before I even thought of having another offspring due to the health risks to me. Why oh why am I yet again failing to do the sensible thing?

Our feline companions are experiencing being in heat, they are calling to the males of their species to come and give them a good seeing to.

However, we are a bit stressed at the moment and could do with out having kittens from kittens, our plan had been to get one spade and let the other have one lot of kittens from which we would keep one. Alas things have got a bit ahead of themselves and our kittens are suddenly ragingly horny teenage cats. An unknown tom has appeared in the vasinity so our felines are ‘grounded’ for the duration.

This is a heartbreaking affair as it is, as they mew and mew to be let out and spend all their time cleaning themselves infront of the door waiting their chance.

Then there is the issue of the walking Skeleton

They knock at the letter box so she lets them out! I have told her repeatefly why we are keeping them in and her last response to this was, ‘well it doesnt matter if you are getting them done anyway does it?’

Erm…

Does this mean she expects us to have them spade whilst pregnant?

Becuase that just seems cruel to me. our plan is that if they are pregnant then we let them have the kittens and then put adverts everywhere so they all get nice homes (bar the one we would keep). Surely to do such a thing would be bad both physicallly and psycologically? I mean I dont know I am not a vet but still…

It just gets worse here I swear As it is we feel cruel about having them in heat it can not be very nice for them and we should have paid more attention to exactly how old they were but they are small cats and so had us fooled though we knew how old they were we just sort of somehow lost track of time.

My dear mortals things do seem to just get more and more rediculas.