Kitchen Dom - Meanstreak
By: K.L. Miller
13 March 2010
This is WHY I REQUIRE a submissive:
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Right now, the only thing I need from Her... is Compliance; she'll get not just Pleasure and-slash-or Good Sex... She'll get so much more that calling it Love will seem paltry.
However... She isn't here; all I have are Possibilities... and they all want to take A Place... just not HER Place.
Fine; cock leg and wait for me to Notice you; I'll fuck you when the Mood hits me. In fact... considering how shitty the Day's been...
And none of this Human bullshit; Respect is on the other side of this; right now... you are little more than Holes for my use; that is what I Need... what She would Understand and offer, Yielding her Flesh...
I'll blaze until my fuckin' eyes bleed, playing with your pussy from time-to-time as I see fit. Maybe I'll pause for your cell call if it's family, but your Gossip Chica might get an earful of you mumbling around your panties crammed down your mouth, bent up and quite literally twisted...
Stoke the Hair... or Seize you by the Throat... my call, pure whim actually; pussy ass or mouth... eh, whichever.
And HOW could She possibly Understand? Because there are Things SHE Requires, and I cough it up without Hesitation and only token male Griping... if I remember to spare the Thought-Process-Cycles. Because those Moments when She Requires My Attention... My Love... anything and everything... without Question of Love or Loyalty...
Because when She Needs me to Listen she doesn't have to pitch an unholy bitch-fit... just touch me on the shoulder... sit on my lap... or simply start Talking.
And... the Females around me... are not Her; all they can pray for is that my Touch doesn't leave too horrid a Scar on their Souls. She will have Her own, and it may indeed take God's own Divine Word to force Her to think about sharing Where and How... but She Trusts me with such Tales/Truth/Painful Realities Hidden from all but the most paranoid, caring eyes.
And just when some Measure of Humanity knocks at my Mental Doors... something slaps those knuckles aside... and I Remember something that inevitably drowns me in an immeasurably dark/beyond-midnight-black/Nothing...
She will Know... and be rightly afraid; anyone else will blunder and I'll Explode. I don't just Craft... I Speak from Experience. There is an Angel with such a Scar, thanks to this fucked-up Sliver of me that I've been fighting with since Egg-Sperm.
* * * *
THIS is Why I Require a Submissive... because only a Woman with such a Connection to Me can possibly Survive such Storms; one bad Day... a shitty Shift on the Line... a Server Triggering me...
And I won't bring Outside the Home INSIDE... but I gotta de-rez from it... clean off the last bits; sorry if a shower, the weed and good booze don't do it completely chummers; I'm Wired Differently.
So on those nights when I walk home, the Road won't wear me down; She'll be there and that alone makes the trip less than nothing to Endure. The bullshit from Work won't last longer than Her touch... or the simple sight of Her through the window.
The Rest? Those Females who insist that one rumble in the hay will ease the Meanstreak they see...
It's often been said: NEVER LIE TO YOURSELF.
fin