Tag Archives: thriller

Come lye here below me


lye here below me

When I was bitten, and chosen to be turned, I was already immortal. An angel. A fallen angel, yes, but an angel nonetheless

Tis that painting

To which you stare

I wrestle in hating

As she’s brushed there

 

Maybe see me so still

But it’s been a lie

A game to kill

What’s it like to cry?

 

I cannot comprehend

What it feels you say real

Wish I could once pretend

But it’s your emotions I do not feel

 

Unaware how you’ll be my prey

ever so soon, so fear what I say

 

 

Come to me now

Lay your body below me

Your going to feel how

Throbbing loved by we

 

Stare if you must

Your pissing me off

Loose the desired trust

I am furthest from soft

 

Unaware how you’ll be my prey

ever so soon, so fear what I say

 

Still you crave me

Based on what you have read

Fine weak mortal become we

I will enjoy rubbing on me as you bleed

 

Why must I attract

the obvious retards

Boring as expected to react

You pretend to feel some regard

 

You will die soon

This I say

Tomorrow by noon

I will enjoy you, my prey

 

Unaware how you’ll be my prey

ever so soon, so fear what I say

 

 

Soon to be master

You’ll think so smart

Watch me play faster

and rip out your heart

 

Best take credit

It’s already dieing

You begged and I read it

My fun an invite to rush your lieing

 

Let’s go, wait we have

Your challenge of jokes

Has clearly offered the road you pave

My joy the day you gasp from chokes

 

Unaware how you’ll be my prey

ever so soon, so fear what I say

 

Come play tough liar

This is my life

Decievinga crier

Feel my speed as your knife

 

You taunted first

Meaning I haunting last

Unaware I have yes started your curse

Fake mortals like you easily so fast

 

I promise you girly fool

I always get mine

Not one single rule

Especially of your kind

 

You know what’s so crazy

Is calling someone crazy

When you know they are

What is crazy baby?

 

Unaware how you’ll be my prey

ever so soon, so fear what I say

 

I laugh as you don’t know

Yet call me in public scared then go

Your about to see in person

Karma you disregard ah, so you worsen

 

Unaware how you’ll be my prey

ever so soon, so fear what I say

 

 

 

 


My Weapon your Lesson


 

I am Changing, Why? Time is……

Another Vampire Feast

Yet you enter me at least

I will never let go

Your desire I now know

To show you I am wide

My secret hides on my other side

Only alone do I feel this pleasure

Hidden are my gifts of pressure

Fears undeserving far to long an

Love, immortal, is our song

Time I pray will rid of his kills

Turning slowly I can’t sit still

Now I was able to let you see

My weapons are none more than me

The source that is killing

the very one I find thrilling

Tis far greater to mock my mistakes

In my life, immortal, no saviours gate

Time I suppose will help me with skills

More techniques to learn, rules and kills

Come I will never let go

Your desire I now know

To show you I am wide

My secret hides on my other side

Only alone do I feel this pleasure

Hidden are my gifts of treasure

Fears undeserving far too long

Love, not immortal, is our song

Time I pray will rid of his kills

Turning slowly I can’t sit still

Now I was able to let you see

My weapons are none more than me

The factor that is killing me

Is the very one I cannot feel just see

It is far greater to beg for my mistakes

And in my life, now immortal not fake

Time I suppose will help perfect my skills

Techniques teach obedience whilst one kills

Rather choose to obey and respect

Distribute fear to begin I will Infect

Chase as effect to hunt thy prey

Just to judge their fear this way

You do not know what I can do

The silence you hear, is calm for you

Mistake me again for being kind

Reveals stupidity in your witty mind

Make no mistake I live in peace

I can watch myself even as beast

Time I pray will rid of his kills

Turning slowly I can’t sit still

Should you hurt just one I love

Or mock my being just look above

Search for protection as you look up there

Do know the prey you hurt with no care

See and hear the clarity I speak

As you only do know we will meet

What? Is it possible to respect your smut?

Do hope your joking, your finished and cut

You the type who laugh even now

encourage in sequel, will show how

Time I suppose will help perfect my skills

Techniques teach obedience whilst thy kills

You so perfect in all of each day

Run, start now, my love, my next preY

Until eve of Tomorrows Day

I must know why I change, what’s biting my way

Regardless mY weapon, will be your lesson.

Trust you may, come lets preY

 


My life as a white, female drug dealer, chapter One


Image

Chapter One

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

What has not killed me in my life, has defined me.
My behaviors, actions and mistakes have defined me more.
My entire life revolved around, selling, buying and cooking drugs.
I never knew I had any other choice.  My name is Sky.

It isn’t hard for me to remember the first time I saw drugs.  It was the very same afternoon I saw a pistol, not like the standard 10 or 12 gauge shotgun Dad had kept at home.  But Dad had been gone and remarried five years by then.

There was a new kid at school. He was popular, adored by all the girls, and the son of a Federal Agent for Law Enforcement, just transferred to our city.  No mother and no reasons offered as to why.

I had no clue why two weeks new to school he asked me to ditch to spend the afternoon with him at his house.  No one would be home and he had some cool cop stuff to show me.  Nothing felt safer than hanging with a policeman’s son.

The rebellious and fearless teenager I was at 14, confidently jumped at such an invitation.  I too was very popular and desired by most of the boys.  I never let on to the rumors that weren’t true, specifically of me being a slut or promiscuous.  I opted to say nothing.

Truth be told, I was a virgin and had no plans in giving up my secret truth by breaking a childhood oath for reasons I prefer not to speak of.

At noon, he came and got me.  His name was John. It could have been any Joe, John or Jack for that matter.  The situation was a reason to get out of school.  I ditched school a dozen times, never caught, but also never anything to do when I did.  Today was going to be an adventure, for real.  Neither of our parents were the wiser, both were working, very busy and not very strict.

It was raining.  I can remember, like any teenage girl, worried that my hair would be a wreck.  Maybe I could ask John to use a blow dryer.  Suppose exposing my vanity this soon may not be cool.  Besides I was viewed as a tomboy and I had to maintain this persona to keep my friends.

Soaking wet, I entered John’s home, a huge bungalow, inner walls lined with cut logs of wood.  Surprising and shocking were the number of guns, displayed in glass cases, hanging on those wood walls.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling way out of my comfort zone.

It was a man’s home, justified by the lack of John ever mentioning his mother, or any form of a mother.  This and the absence of any female belongings.

He pranced around telling me the history of his dad’s guns.  I couldn’t hear him over my own self-consciousness thoughts that my hair was getting frizzy.

He couldn’t hold the excitement any longer to show me the rest of the home.  Starting first with a bolt-lock door into the den. Inside there were huge bricks marked evidence and wads of cash stacked neatly in an open safe.

He said the bricks were his father’s confiscated drug evidence. Mainly heroin and cocaine.  Not mentioning why they were there, I didn’t ask nor really cared to find out.  He took a knife from the desk drawer, stabbed a grey wrapped brick, exposing powder. It was white, and John’s confident offering told me it was cocaine.

There it was.  This was a twofold, potentially awkward situation.  First, I didn’t know why he spooned it out and kept it on the knife.  My expression surely gave up to admitting having never done this before.  Secondly, if I demonstrated fear, he would surely ditch me at school for all the kids to know something, not knowing what he would also make up.

I played it cool; like I understood what he meant by asking me to take a toot.  I said, “Right from the knife? Don’t you get more by taking it other ways?” He laughed and said “Trust me there’s lots here to play with”, then proceeded to snort some from the knife.  I am pretty confident he did so knowing I had no clue what to do.

Without hesitation, the fearless and still innocent naïve girl in me snorted as much off that knife as my lungs could inhale.  I figured I had nothing to lose, only new experiences to gain.  I prayed it wouldn’t make me lose control, but to no avail, it did just the opposite.

The first sensation was that of numbness in my nose and down the back of my throat.  My emotions for the first time in my life were controllable.  My feelings were that of a super-being.  I was happy.  I was not thinking of anything else.  I had no pain of the past, and surely not thinking of any event except that magnificent moment.  Instantly I wanted more.

As John laughed at my approach to this powder, within 30 seconds of snorting it, something inside me changed.  I knew this was the answer to my fears.

Within a minute I wanted to get higher, sustain this buzz to see how and where I could go within this world of ecstasy. This was a new and perfect world, where, anything felt possible.  John was most generous in sharing his father’s work materials.  He playfully invited me to come see his room.  He had the entire basement of the bungalow.  It was huge, even beneath the stairs exposed two secure bars.

Much less affected, I now noticed more gun racks in glass cases.  These all held pistols.  When asked, he said they were gifts from his dad.  I paid no mind to them along with handcuffs, Billy clubs and a few Officer hats.  He cranked Rod Stewart so loud it just enhanced my pleasure trip.

John was acting kinda strange, like he thought he was his father or something.

I only know that what transpired next started without me being aware, continued for what seemed like forever, and ended too late.

Somewhere between accepting more cocaine, feeling my anxiety, at the speed my heart was racing, the tone had instantly changed; I had been dragged and cuffed to the two poles supporting the stairs which would be my focal point for the next half hour.

I, in terror and strung out on coke, firmly told John to fuck off and release me as the cuffs were hurting my wrists.  Music blaring, I couldn’t scream and with just two legs free, I tried, but could not reach to kick him in defense. His response was silent and brought much more anticipated pain.

He handcuffed each leg, to what I do not know, nor remember.  I was bound for the unknown and now crying.  I never believed he was going to do what he did but was in a panic imagining what he would do.  I truly believed he was going to kill me once he stood in my view.

John stood to expose his cop hat, Billy club, two pistols clenched by two hands and that was all he was wearing.  He knelt down resting his right forearm on his right leg, grinned in that kind of way that is a mocking, warning things are going to get ugly.  All he said was:

“Sky, you act like such a lady at school, who knew you were such a whore.  You stole my dad’s drugs, well, now you have to be punished.  I got my Dad’s back.”

He slapped me hard across the face with the back of his hand splitting my left cheekbone open to bleed.  It stung like boiling water.  I stopped crying and tried focusing on anything except what was happening.  Being the daughter of a manipulative genius, some survival traits kicked in.  Besides, I clearly wasn’t dealing with a stable individual.

I wondered if he and his father shared this demonic hobby, or my god, what if he came home and was drawn downstairs by the blaring music.

I loved the band Bay City Rollers.  I closed my eyes and chanted their lyrics in my head continuously.  The coke was wearing off and I could feel my cheek swelling, what a sting.  Come on Sky, you can handle this thug.  He’s just a boy who needs to feel in control. “OK John, fine you got my attention, I am the slut I am known as.  But Baby, this could go a lot easier and certainly more fun if you let me touch you too.”

Once in awhile, even now, I can still smell his skin, 30 years later.  He had refused to un-cuff me.  “Sky, you’re not getting it, I don’t want you to touch me, and frankly I don’t want to touch you either.  See, it is because I have to.  Pretty, popular girls like you make entertaining victims.  All cool and fake, you need to be brought down to size.”

That was one of the scariest thoughts, I weighed 100 pounds, he about 150 just at 14.  Size wouldn’t have mattered with his strength.  His private, well-protected fetish was to torture and I was yet to find out what next.  As a virgin I didn’t know what to expect of sex or rape.  John announced this entire plan was about just that.  His kicks and punches slowly put me in a state of a bruised and bloody catatonic detachment.

I had no strength.  Fractured, weak and semi conscious, I just made sense of his words, the last I could comprehend. “Sky, Sky, Sky, this is going to hurt.  Well, hurt you, but pleasure me.”  He knew I was weak enough to faint, and definitely not have an ounce of energy to fight back.  With that, he unlocked my ankles, now swollen, red and scraped.  Still on my legs he ripped my panties off and spread my legs.

John pressed one gun to my right temple and the second pistol was the start of my life’s sexual pain.  John stuck the pistol in my vagina, then up my vagina.

The first thing to ever enter my vagina was a pistol.  I froze.  I was already in need of medical help, and in incredible pain. I thought I could take no more, but he was just beginning.

I became lost in a moment of desire, a desire for more cocaine.  I clung to this memory, that would scar me for life, and I had to numb its pain.  Numb it like the cocaine did, take away the pain and take me away from reality.  This combination of desire followed me my whole life.  For reasons that only began with John.

 

© Kimberly Gray


Mythbroakia

STAY MYSTIFIED!

julie chicklitasaurus

RAWResome books, stories & ideas for women

Just a tad more than Mounties, Beavers and Maple Syrup

Canada needs to stick out..one website at a time

STATEMENT TORONTO

WHO'S WHO IN THE BIG SMOKE!

Steve Emmett

humanist, celebrant, writer, speaker

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

C3ns0rd's Blog

Just another WordPress.com weblog

Trainee Drug Boy

My thoughts and reflections of being a volunteer drug-worker and seeking employment

Press Flix

Press Flix provide updated podcast and app reviews on trending topics of technology, also opportunities to motivate and inspire a connected generation.

UltimateDollarClicks

We have some of the best offers in the industry with very good payout in our network that will help you generate more revenue from you existing or new traffic. We work directly with the merchants and bring you with latest and high payouts. If you have questions, please feel free to contact me. I have enclosed my contact information so you can send me your comments, suggestions, and inquiries at any time. I am really very excited to bring you on board and be part of fast growing network.

Discombobulated Musings of a Scorpio Diva

Inspired Creativity Expressed Through the Art of the Written Word

The Paleo Secret

Eating well and living well, just like you were built to! It's not a secret any more..

shopping 99

A fine WordPress.com site

The Window In The Basement

a writer's blog, by Jeff Ambrose

The Indie Book Writers Blog | Self Publishing | Get Published

Writing, Self Publishing, Book Marketing, Bookselling