Kitchen Dom - The Traditional Way
By: K.L. Miller
16 January 2010
"She's about had it with your ass." He chuckles, and I join him as Memories flip by my Mind's Eye. He's not entirely incorrect, and it is worrisome that I actually attempt a rebuttal.
"But she's hitched," I chuckle/sigh.
"AND?!?! She wants some Black Dick and..." The rest is actually rather typical T-Monkey Philosophy; I choose not to dwell on the whole Race Issue... because I've scripted Tales infinitely more interesting about that same horrid Subject.
He also gets questioned about that look from earlier...
* * * *
There are some Females who avoid eye contact with me; she is not one of that lot. Why immediately comes to mind... and then truth: she is a theater major. Now... the theater is something of an enigma to me; as such I find curious enjoyment watching a production... and truly enjoy behind-the-scenes. She offers me a great opportunity, one that includes Getting to Know her as a Human Being.
Of course... she's quite attractive; definitely Dazzle-Worthy...
* * * *
"I mean... aside from her being hitched... you would... right?" He looks at me, Questioning my Sexual Alignment with Standard T-Monkey not-quite-joking raised eyebrows.
"In a nano-tick; but I Won't Break my Code of Honor." I smile as Morgana's red hair swirls into Thought.
He accepts that, barely; he's Done Dirt on that score before... and if he gets another shot... he won't hesitate to Pull the Trigger. He Understand Why I won't, but he Sees what I See: a Woman with a Craving; he does not See things as I See them... and can't Know that it actually hurts me to see a Woman go unsatisfied, and Crave another's Touch. That I consider her a Friend makes matters all the more Complicated; this is where Drama is birthed. In short... it's easier to maintain that uncomfortable Friend Distance than to clean up the Fall Out from such a Meeting.
"I still say you should just go ahead and fuck her." Tossing aside my Code of Honor just to get my Dick wet... or worse, to Feed some Rancid Twat; pardon me... I'd rather think of her as the Woman she is and not some eager Cunt itching for Black Dick.
"And send her home to her Ol' Man tweekin'... yeah... right." I take a hit from the joint then pass.
"Now that other one... she'll let you pull her hair, tie her up..."
I amuse him with stoned laughter, forgetting the Shift one heartbeat after marijuana's four second kick-in time; I do not Think about him being right or wrong; his Logic is Flawed... though Ancient. Most people thing Theater-Type equals odd-ball; not quite True, but it comes close enough for Shallow Minds to seize on as Chip.
If anything... this Stereotype might explain Why she locks gazes whenever I address her; she speaks with the barest hint of Fear... that sickeningly sweet Flavor that kisses nearly every Voice that greets me... moreso recently...
* * * *
It was a Matter where Honor was Demanded... and humiliated; my Rage, from the standpoint of ANY Man of Honor... and EVERY Samurai... was equally simple: Settle the Account then and there... consequences and other shit be damned. I had to latch on to something based on Honor to keep from walking out... or just going blind and geeking everyone foolish enough to come between me and my Chosen Prey.
Got Fam there; they knew the score: leave the Sociopath alone... let him cool down and Remember that you are Human. So, come time for them to buzz... turbines full chummer; one such Connection... a Female (this is Important) got caught in the cross-fire.
In such a Mood... not even Blood-Ties can save you from my Wrath; this obliterates the Local LAW that states that some People are above Reproach, Evil, Etc. Let me explain the Depths of True Evil: child... Love... nothing is Sacred to a Truly Evil Soul. And, apparently, Men of Honor are such Evil Souls; so be it. Long ago I accepted this laughable Truth as Normal American Mindset, taught from birth via Children's Tales and Experience... Light-born and Shadow-cloaked.
Yes she helped when no one else would; yes she Cares; where Honor is concerned... none of that Matters to me. This is the Curse of being a Man of Honor... the Curs I bear for Following a Code... MY WAY...
Even the Woman I Love is subject to this ruthless Law.
And I... cannot shed one Tear for any of them; it is a Matter of Honor... End of File.
* * * *
He examines the rum, eyes wide. I guess he expected me to be kidding when I said I had good rum; I set Widow Maker's Kiss down, feeling somewhat better. Frag... a barking shitload better than I have these past few days and Nights. Breakin' Bread is a New Orlean's Tradition: inviting someone into your Home, alcohol and maybe one other vice... but always with a very open Heart.
Survival Mode wears on the nerves; sleep comes in spurts and spasms; it becomes easy to mistake the Connections between Moments/Actions/Experiences. But above all of these things... NO ONE gets close enough to touch the flesh.
My eyes say Street Warrior; the anxiety vibrates in every smooth Playa Stride; the slight nod to the chica babbling to the baldhead with his back to me is Noticed only because she stares at me... while never once stopping to catch her breath. Interest flares in her eyes; he turns until he spots me. I jerk my head skyward; eyes lazy... mouth slightly open. He accepts my presence, Knowing I don't want his Prey.
We don't toast, just start drinking as soon as the level of rum reaches a satisfactory level; he is amazed at just how much I Do, stunned by the Vigor of Youth. As if; this is Wind Down from the Shift... perfectly Normal if you don't count Breakin' Bread with a chummer. If he didn't have other Biz we'd get bent together...
As is... I'm stuck doss-side with only my Thoughts... and his Words. I pains me to Feel Nero's Ancient Desire within me... though I Understand it will always be there... Burning quietly; I won't Get Laid so long as I'm in Survival Mode... but I won't Get Fucked either. It isolates me from all but an Angel's Touch... and this is a lesson I Learn this evening, puffing away on Widow.
* * * *
Toss aside Honor? I cannot. So... I am considered Evil and left alone, shunned by those who Care... a Thing of Horror to all others. Only an Angel dare Touch this Form, for only God's Grace dare offer enough Love and Power... Forgiveness... Compassion... and only this can withstand the Burn...
Cold... Dark... Eons Ancient before Time was but a Stray Thought in God's infinite Existence. It takes Strength to Know... and Wisdom to turn aside such Knowledge that does only Harm... to turn away from Evil in all its guises. Cold... Dark; this is how such a Soul is Described... viewed; such a Form walking amongst the Living is abhorrent to those who breathe.
For in Seven Breaths a Choice is Made... and Honor Satisfied; Man and his Ways... Rules... Traditions... must Yield; Honor First. It is not pretty; it is not for those without Heart... without Spirit. Many loath this Form NOW Because it IS Honor... and I Understand this.
Yet I cannot cast Honor aside... especially for a Female; not even Love can take its Place... nor can Honor replace Love. I UNDERSTAND this... and pity those who cannot.
Just as I Feel those Hearts... Powerful behind firm breasts of whatever Size Measure chosen; just as I Feel those eyes linger on me... and... I Watch as their Craving deepens; perhaps it will fuse into Desire. Why? Because I won't try to fuck them while they're tucked in a Relationship... regardless of any assumptions of Openness; because I ain't gunnin' for the Leg... they wanna give me the Leg. Because all I want... all I work towards... is getting to Know the Female... the Heart... the Soul...
And here... you must Understand something of WOMEN... for ALL Women NEED to Feel unchecked Passion; Yes you Love her Hubby-Dearest... FUCK HER MAD-DOG MONKEY-STYLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And here, in black skin, Spin of Honor... is a Man... with a bit of a Twisted Soul...
And all he needs is a Good Woman...
At his Right hand Side... head bowed slightly... RESPECTFULLY... with just the barest hint of a curiously odd Smile attempting to pull at her Lips and Thoughts... if you could see her eyes twitter/twitch...
* * * *
You don't wanna See this... because this is the End Result of the Bullshit... what happens when he tosses aside Honor and becomes the Thing you keep insisting is behind what Is.
You'll get Gorilla-Grunge-FUCKED... which is to say... toss aside any Human Emotion; you are a Cunt now... talked to as such... treated as such. Friend? Nope... so don't EVEN look for anything more; when he's done... HE'S DONE... he'll vanish... tossing in one stray Human Rule: No Diseases... No babies... no Drama... that is how he will leave you.
Those smart enough can spot one gaping Loop Holes: SCARS...
Frag the Flesh...
WE MAR THE SOUL!!!!!!!!!!!!! Always have...
Spirits Willing... always will; how else can we Leave a Mark on those who insist of banishing what We Stand for?
Much less Those who WILL Follow After I am Beyond dust...
fin