Oh, and forgetting to pre-bake the pizza dough my not be a bad-tasting mistake, but you'll take turns in the bathroom for the next several hours after eating the pizza....
Quote of the day
"Oh, Baby... I lost my pencil in the bathroom.... so if you find it... let me know, ok?"
oh and the REALLY stupid thing i did today?
oh, and I heated up chicken pot pie in the oven for breakfast... and then we went to the flea market... and then my mom's house... we left the house at 9:30, the flea market at 11 and my mom's house at 2:45.... we get home, settle in, and i lean against the stovetop as i get something cold out of the fridge........ and I nearly fall over... the top of the stove is warm.... I left the stove on while we weren't home.... over 4 hours. I am officially... blessed, lucky as hell, and extremely stupid.
Quiet in school. Thinking. Under the radar, good grades, Bs and the occasional C to keep out of the Ab honor list. Not funny, not brooding. Wallpaper popular except the blue eyes. Chess Club, the indulgence.
And so, moving the first pawn, he'd given an opening. She took it, and in six moves, she had won his heart and took his king.
He gave his first compliment, she said it was a cheap trick and offereed 3 of 5.
Every game was even. If it hadn't been for the first win, they'd have been even. but she always had tie or lead, even if she only stayed ahead by one game. She kept her lead.
They kept it a secret, neither of their respective parents were the kind to introduce ones significant other to. She'd be grounded, he'd be beaten. Since first grade, his greatest school grade acheivement, he'd been careful to be average, invisible, ignorable. It had been a friday, the teacher had calle dhome to conngratulate the parents of such a smart young man. The bruises for disturbing the silence hadn't healed by monday. he stayed home.
and so, he would go around to her window, second story, back of the house, and watch her undress before tossing the preagreed bundle with ribbon tied to it through her window. She'd dress for him then, in the clothes he'd bought for her. The she climbed down the rope still hanging from the old elm, from the days before her dad turned into a drunk.
remember these are me tryin to figure out what is going on, these are not hard facts about Danny yet.
Day Job:
Something that is part time, at random hours, so we can see him watching someone at school in the middle of the day as well as at night on the weekend etc. a job that requires he move often, so that he doesn't wear out a neighborhood or attract too much attention. Someplace that wouldn't keep track of all his different locations and times. or in/near a large city, harder to track that way.
private contractor.
independently wealthy from his dead parents. invested well at an early age.
independently wealthy from a grandparent //trust fund, invested well, also inherited parents money.
I've ruled out anything with school, most people try to be near the thing that prompts their urges if they can. so no schools, colleges, etc.
My husband has soooo much talent as a writer, he just doesn't see it. He reads me, he gives me ideas, the words i need - the life, the air my characters breathe and live. Danny. He said to get back in touch the way I used to be so that now I could write about the story instead of write it. He says that Ive written so much of it, it's just poured out of me, but I don't know where it's going. And he's right. He says to write about what Danny does in private, in between, what he thinks during. To answer questions the audience will ask. Be the 3rd person omniscient who is watching Danny, and his thoughts, feelings. What does he do to the girl in blind? Does he speak to her? Why does he go into her room? Is it just to get to know her? Does he lock the window open or find some other way to guarantee entrance?
And then, he says it. The poetry was just pouring out of him, like he wasn't even trying... He makes it look so easy.
He says,
"Maybe he kidnaps the girl from Blind. She wakes up, maybe tied to a chair or something. He's sitting across from her, and behind him, on the wall, are all the pictures he's taken of her. He's talking to her, but she's not scared, not one little bit, because she suddenly feels like he knows her better than anyone in the whole world, like he cares, maybe more than anyone in the whole world, that maybe this man is the only one who has ever really known her after all. No one knows her the way he does. She knows he cares."
And so i'm lying in bed next to him, listening to this... the beautiful description that I couldn't have said or written better, and I find myself crying, inspired... so thats why I'm in the living room, sitting on a blanket in a corner with a notebook and my music turned up loud, my glasses off so i can concentrate, trying my damnedest (thats how spellcheck says it's spelled) with my pink pencil and composition notebook to get back to the core of my character.
Danny facts I may or may not have written down before:
Piercing blue eyes. black hair. Avg., not intimidating height. Easy smile, instantly comforts people in normal situations.
He keeps a dog. Takes extremely good care of her. Keeps a spare leash and studded collar in the trunk (No, the) glove compartment of his car "just in case" she goes missing gets loose.
At 19, he's interested in girls 16-19. At 20, 18-20. He grows up in his interests too.
The Dancer is 24.
The carbag he keeps in his trunk to help (or abduct) stranded roadside motorists and keep his own car in shape contains:
Duct tape,
rope,
WD-40 gloves,
coat hanger,
bottle of water x4,
emergency medical kit,
jumper cables,
a jack,
tire patch kit....
add to this list as i think of more.
“I’m here about the spare female- Oh, no one told you?
There was a fire, broke into one of the houses, just down the street.
Government likes to blame the wiring, but I don’t
Think it’s something so innocent, nothing’s ever that easy.
It’s probably just a spare female couplet in the stud bay-
Yeah, that can cause a house to go up in flames.
I’m supposed to inspect all the houses on your block…
No Sir, the government is footing the bill for this one.
I agree, it’s nice that
Someone is finally paying for their own mistakes.
It should only take a few hours,
Should I come by later, or is now
A good time?”
I saved your bedroom for last, Sweetheart.
The pink curtains on your window gave you
Away. I lied through my teeth that whoever lives in this room
Looks well-loved. Your mother began to tell me
What she thinks defines you, and I took the chance to look around.
She seemed blind to the handcuffs stashed under your pillow,
“Good grades,” she said.
And to the slit, dripping wrists of the drawn angel on your wall.
“Athletic scholarship,” she said.
She didn’t notice the carved prayers in your closet like I did.
“Public service award,” she said, and left me to work.
She doesn’t even see, but I think I know why
Your drawings are taped to the wall with duct tape.
I saw everything.
I even saw that when you write, your ‘i’s are dotted with teardrops.
I wonder if it is loneliness that makes even your writing cry.
1. scrambled eggs with bacon grease.
2. Falling in Nexus.
3. Logging into messenger and trying to delete 24 unheard voice messages from yahoo messenger itself... causes messenger crash every stinking time! but the voice messages wont go away!!!!! AHHHHH i'm going nuts.
4. Trying to get a job at Dairy Queen in January.
5.
had it "linked and shared" on "google reader" but i must have done something wrong, because it definitely did not get to my blog without a little help....
gotta watch, funniest video i've seen in a long time. yes, it's clean.
Teaching my hubby to make his own blog today. early this morning, his WoW ran out... so we're doing all kinds of cool stuff today while sleep deprived. Helping babysit my sister's 4 kids and my little brother at Chuck E Cheese, (not to mention my nana, who also sometimes needs a little babysitting), introducing my husband to "cherry," that drink all little kids always want but usually only pizza places have, coloring one of those fuzzy posters, watching a terrible movie called The Watchmen (I gave up in disgust halfway through when the shot glass got crushed in the guy's hand[would have given up earlier if I had actually been watching most of it]) and like I said, dual blogging also.
going to show him colors when i remember how to.. hmmm... i'll have to check somewhere else to get it started.
its so hard to admit weakness to him, when i look up to him so much.... but i need... omgosh i NEED ... i want to please... i need to please.... time to make dinner, he hinted at it an hour ago... i guess i took my angry out on both of us..
i hate limits, my limit is when i'm screaming in pain, not pleasure, when i see blood, when i can't breath, when i hear something crack... but not when i say, i never feel i can judge when i'm unable to handle it. my L key is going now, too.
i love you, Andrew. i want to please. i want to say my safeword. but damn i feel like such a failure when i say it, when everythign stops, when i can't finish, can't please fully, i have to stop. i hate it. it makes everything before it worthless.
unless we were to continue play until i say the safeword, i feel i should never say it. unless someone is at the door, or some other emergency not relating to my pain threshold. i am so sorry, i'm still fighting to say it in my head.
i got an awardicon, which means nothing in real life, but it means someone spent money to say my writing is good. mostly for my girl behind the fence poetry though... not any of the other writing i don't think...
"This email is to notify you that you have received an awardicon!
Award Title: For dark and unique poetry Given By: Mara ♣ Mc Bain (209) Given To Your Item: "Diary of a Serial Killer, Pt. Three' "
but she spent 10,000 gp (gift points, received by buying them or reviewing other people) to give my work a ribbon!
our neighbor upstairs is a better cook than I am. He spends less time, makes better food, and his house is always clean. It makes me wonder if he would turn out to be a better wife than I am sometimes.
but... for someone who doesn't exercise, I'm relatively in better shape than him. I can't do as much, but he claims to exercise, whereas I just think about exercising, and can do one less pull-up than him. and many more hanging upside-down situp thingys.
and i sit here thinking about how messed up our house is, and i'm hungry. and we just ate. anyway. i should be writing i should be doing something productive, not whining on a blog, not sitting ehre thinking about how good it felt when i said "fuck you" and Andrew said "no." like i had been asking, not insulting... and it made me warm.
No sex. yup, that's what I said. I am allowed no sex until I agree to use the safe word when I need to. No bondage, no discipline, no hand over my mouth, no fucking sex. at all. Because of my stupid pride. I can't say my safeword. I just can't do it. If I'm hurting, I can't say stop because I feel like a failure if I stop. Even though I know he wants me to. I know he wants me to say stop when I need it. I know it in my head, but I still can't help but feel like I failed, because I couldn't handle it.
But he's touching me. He's teasing me. I'm allowed to masturbate, he can't stop me from pleasuring myself... and I like the attention. I like backrubs at night, and the things he says, the stories he comes up with. I like feeling him masturbate in bed beside me... Most of all though, I like the soft, touching nice nice backrubs. but I know it can't last.
If I enjoy it for too long, he'll get mad, think I'm being insolent on purpose, and stop trying altogether...
The twins are perfect opposites. it enthralls me. One with jet black hair, one as close to snow as blonde can be. The blonde has green eyes and pinker lips. They share a nose- Identical hips. Standing opposite, the the blonde is wearing black, while the raven is adorned with white. They share a silver locket, shoes, and height, but the blonde only has the twinkle in her eye when standing by her sister, her twin, her creation. The girl with black hair is lacking in dimension. For although she looks real through the window for someone driving by, the secret is she's painted on the wall, gray wings, her sign of freedom. there's irony here you're sure to miss, the painting has her wings. but growing up the girl will find, she's the one who leaves.
.: Sample Check list
The questions below will help you identify your main interests and will probably point out a few things you're uncomfortable with and one or two of your off-limits areas. If you have a partner this can be a great tool for both of you - as well as for current and future conversations. The checklist was originally designed to be answered by a submissive but a dominant can easily use it by picturing himself on the other side of the dynamic described.
Here's how to use this checklist. For each question below just put a number from one to six (1-6) in the box to indicate your response based on this scale:
1. This is something I really do like/want.
2. This is fun, I like this.
3. I'm not sure, let's try it out.
4. I'm not really into this, but if it turns my partner on I don't object.
5. This will turn me off, I don't like this.
6. This is an absolute no go.
Take your time for this and consider each question, situation or indication carefully before answering.
Are there any specific types of people that turn you on?
[ ] Soldiers, marines, paratroopers
[1] Sailors, coast guard, merchant marine
[ ] Airmen, pilots
[ ] Policemen, security people
[ ] Truck drivers
[ ] Firemen
[ ] Executioners
[ ] Nurses, doctors
[ ] Prostitutes, tramps
[ ] Hunters
[6] Wrestlers
[ ] Surfers, life guards
[ ] Motorcycle people, Hells Angels
[ ] Cowboys, farm boys
[ ] Gentlemen, nobility
[ ] Business people, yuppies, managers
[ ] Servants
[ ] Teachers
[6] Daddy, uncle
Others, please specify:
___________________________________
Which of the following scenes would turn you on?
[3] Having a romantic dinner by candlelight
[1] I am spanked because I have been a naughty girl
[3] I am in the woods and suddenly this man comes from behind and grabs me
[3] A stranger walks into my bedroom and finds me playing with myself
[2] My partner and I are making love in a public place
[1] I am are sold on a slave market
[3] I am used as a slave in public
[1] I am used as a slave in private
[3] I am ordered to please others
[3] I am a little schoolgirl
[1] I am sitting/kneeling at my Master's feet
[1] I am are tied and teased
[1] I am grabbed by the hair and dragged into the bedroom
[4] I am used as a dog, pony or pet
[3] I am verbally humiliated
[3] I am tied, gagged and blindfolded and left alone
[2] I am tied, gagged, blindfolded and thoroughly whipped
[1] My physical limits are tested and stretched
[1] My mental limits are tested and stretched
[5] I have to sign a contract
[1] I am a total slave every day of the week
Others, please specify:
___________________________________
Is there any particular clothing or fabric that turns you on?
[1] Leather
[1] Rubber, latex
[1] Patent leather, PVC
[2] Sexy lingerie
[1] Uniforms
[4] Denim
[3] High Heels
[1] Boots
[4] Wet suits
[1] Servants uniform
[2] Masks
Others, please specify:
___________________________________
Do any of the following environments or scenery turn you on?
[2] Your bedroom
[1] A dungeon, castle
[4] Churches and abbeys
[4] Farms and stables
[6] Barracks
[4] Abandoned construction sites
[4] Back alleys
[6] The red light district
[3] A school or a classroom
[2] BDSM-clubs
[4] Estates
[6] Junkyards and car dumps
[3] Woods and forests
[1] Medieval scenery
[6] Nudist beaches
[3] Parking spaces
[6] Truck stops
[6] The bath room
[6] Hospital, dentist
[1] Interrogation room
[3] The shrink's couch
[1] Boot camp
[2/3] Jail, police station
Others, please specify:
___________________________________
I enjoy the following psychodrama(s):
[1] The dominant talks, the submissive is silent or speaks only when spoken to
[3] Dialogue in normal language
[2] Dialogue in adapted language ("Master" and "slave")
[1] Obey rules or else
[1] Reasonable rules
[1] Unreasonable rules
[4] It is OK for the dominant to lose his temper
[2] Swearing and filthy talk
[1] Military/jail type commands
[1] Strict training
[1] Obvious and explicit role play
[3] Subtle role play
[4] I like to be persuaded, rather than commanded
[1] Make me feel guilty
[3] Make me feel cheap
[5] Make me feel used
[1] Make me feel owned
[6] Make me feel useless
[?] Objectify me
[3] The dominant must have compassion
[3] The dominant must have no compassion at all
[1] The dominant must only have compassion after the scene
Others, please specify:
Dominant can pretend compassion, and then not show it, or show compassion, depending on his own instincts. never/always one way or the other.
___________________________________
Sex and sexuality
[1] I need to be sexually aroused when in scene
[2] I need to be sexually aroused before I enter into a scene
[1] I like as many orgasms as I can get
[6] An orgasm turns me off
[2] An orgasm must only be allowed as a reward
[4] An orgasm is a must to end the scene
[1] Orgasms are not important, but nice
[4] Orgasms are not important at all
[1] I want to beg for an orgasm first
[2] I want my sexual abilities to be stretched
[2] I want/need sex during a scene
[4] I want no sex during a scene
[2] Sex should be used to relieve the tension
Others, please specify:
___________________________________
I love the following attributes
[1] Ropes
[1] Leather cuffs and belts
[4] Steel cuffs and chains
[2] Ball and chain
[1] Blindfold
[1] Gags
[1] Masks
[1] Nipple clamps and clothespins
[3] Whips
[2] Riding crops
[4] Canes
[1] Silk to be tied with
[1] Sex toys (vibrators, butt plugs)
[6] Needles and pins
[3] Cross, rack
[2] Bondage table
[2] Cage
[?] Sling
[3/6] Body bag
Others, please specify:
___________________________________
The following scenes appeal to me:
[1-candy] Being tied up, caressed and loved
[1-emily] Being in a public place and dominated in a subtle way
[1] Being taken out with collar and leash
[2] Being locked up and left alone
[3] Being tied up in a comfortable position
[1] Being tied up in discomfort
[1] Being tied up and (in a sexual way) exposed
[2] Being tied up and tickled
[1] Being tied up and (sexually) teased
[2] Being tied up and whipped, flogged or caned
[1] Not being tied up, but verbally commanded into certain positions and having to maintain these
[3] Caned, flogged or whipped without being tied or cuffed
[3] Being spanked in the traditional way
[2] Rough sex/being "raped"
[1] Used as a servant
[1] Being tied and tortured
[1] Being tortured without being tied or cuffed
[3 if same body] Being used by more than one dominant
[2 (jac/barb] Playing in combination with other couples
Others, please specify:
___________________________________
Safe words and signals
[1] The dominant should establish one or more safe words
[3] When I cry, the scene should stop
[ ] I should be able to communicate in plain language
[1] The dominant should be able to read my body language
[ ] I want to be tested when I use a safe word or signal
[] All activity should stop immediately when I use a safe word or signal
[ ] I do not want to use any safe word at all and my signals should be ignored completely
[ ] When I use a safe word or signal the dominant should establish if the scene can continue
[ ] A scene should go on up to the point where I use a safe word or signal
[ ] The use of safe words and signals should be avoided as much as possible
the above should be discussed together as it causes some inner turmoil in me, for i hate saying my safeword.
She sees me. She stares at me. She doesn’t judge, She just wants to pet my dog. He can only lick her hand though. Not even a normal fence. Chain link. Allowed to see the whole world- Everything she can’t have, like those flowers In the meadow behind her house. She can only watch them grow.
Three years old, I’d guess. I call her Kelly, in my mind. Big eyes, fresh new flower dress. A head full of ringlets medusa would be proud of, brown. Glad there wasn’t a “do not feed the child” sign on the fence, I Checked with Mom, on the phone, who waved her OK. Then I gave her some jelly beans, Soon found out she liked them all… Well, Not cinnamon.
Two years swim by, waving as they go. She only likes red jelly beans now, Scooby shirt as ragged as the blanket she drags, Mom still on the phone. April (I found out) has a bruise on the back of her leg, Mommy is wearing a lot of makeup for a stay-at-home At seven in the morning.
At 7 years, her wide eyes have started to hollow, And she doesn’t look at what color I give anymore. She just stuffs her face like she’ll never eat again. Her hair is pulled back with an orange ribbon, And everything about her about her is perfect, Even her laces - “I tied them myself!” Mommy is holding the phone with her left hand today. I think she hears me tell April about a park down the block. The next time I walk by, Mommy is at the mailbox. “That park…” Soft voice. “Take her with you?”
April is really nine and a half She tells me. This is her first “big girl date” She also tells me with a scoop of Every flavor ice cream they have in front of her. She picks cotton candy as the winner. I buy a gallon of that, and one of Vanilla for mommy. So small for nine years old. I wish…
The next time I see her, her arm Is in a cast. She doesn’t bring Ice cream home from our “dates” Anymore. She doesn’t look in my eyes, And when I put a hand on her shoulder, She flinches. When I help her eat Her ice cream, she smiles again, and The whole world starts to dance. We plan.
Next time I bring wire cutters. This time, It’s dark.
When the cast is gone, I wait until Mom Won’t see me. We’re walking down the street, Hand in hand toward the shelter, and she yells, But not for her daughter- “Take me with you!”
Danny Polter, the serial killer, lost his first serious girlfriend in an accident, during foreplay. They were experimenting, playing around like most teenagers do, but then something happened. In the end, she died, and he was broken. He turned to writing, among other things. He burned down the house to cover up her death, killing his parents in the attempt. 18, he scrambled around, but finally landed on his feet, and then it started. The thirst to see life leave another body, to kill again. but to him, it's also romantic. most girls he does't want to kill them, just to help, to show them their true potential, to love them and be loved. but he feels like such a monster that he wouldn't understand real love if it bit his neck and screamed "hey, i'm dracula!" so he does what he does and when he tries to tell them what they need to be a better person, he is rejected and in turn rejects them in the only way he knows how. murder.
So, how to introduce myself. I consider myself a geek, and yet I've never watched Star Wars. I know, I know... most people say that makes me ungeek material. However, I have watched Napoleon Dynamite, Spinal Tap, and Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. I've read Dracula, by Bram Stoker, and I've worked at a call center fixing people's cell phones. Oh, and I met my husband of six months (tomorrow) on an online game called World of Warcraft. I play Alliance on one server and have 10 different characters (the max you can have) that I play.
The name of the blog is an inside joke, but the code is not o hard to crack.
I am, like millions of other out there, an undiscovered writer. I just don't know how to start, I guess, in the world of selling my mind to someone who can make sure that what I've written gets read by lots of people. Once that happens, of course I'll be the next J.K. Rowling, except that she's as rich as God, and British. So I'll be more cautious with money, and I have better teeth.
So, what type of writing do I do, you ask? Well, ask no more I'm going to tell you! I write serial killer poetry, from the very inside of my serial killer's mind. Meaning I'm either brilliant, or in desperate need of a psychiatric evaluation. I plan on scribbling random things here, but most of it wont be Danny's. That's the serial killer's name. Daniel Polter. anyway. end of introduction and on to the next post, his character sketch.
