“WHO ARE YOU ... REALLY?”
© Mesmerr
umpteen more spaces to edit – heheheheh
Overview: She believed she was a modern new milennium feminist woman. He did not. He believed that whatever the mind can conceive, the mind would naturally believe, simply because he felt it. Naturala males and female didn’t think it, they felt it.
Now all he had to do was come up with an idea of how to convince ‘her’ mind to conceive and then she ‘should’ believe, too.
That was the plan, anyway. He believed, or he did in the beginning, at any rate.
Property of www.mcstories.com. All other use prohibited by the author.
“WHO ARE YOU-REALLY?”
It was all about suggestion; suggestion and the belief in the idea that whatever the human mind can imagine and then conceive, the human mind can and will accept and then believe. I knew that, and, I believed that as I finished the last of two erotic stories.
She was just visiting, that’s all; just visiting. The other mixed gender flatmates had all gone shopping. She missed them. I thought she’d gone, too. She hadn’t. She had come earlier than I expected, but I was hopeful. I believed, or felt I did, which made me ready for her arrival, unexpected or not.
She was bored, now. I knew that. She asked what I was doing. I told her I’d just finished writing two very believable short erotic stories. What I hadn’t told her was that I had written those two conjoining stories especially for her.
“Is that so?” She said.
“Yes,” I replied. “Very believable. I feel they are, anyway.”
“Really?” She asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Very believable and very conceivable.”
“You’d think so.” She stated flatly.
“I don’t think, I feel, but yes,” I answered more confidently than I really was. “I do. Very believable, very conceivable, and very acceptable to all.”
“Is that a fact?” She asked in tone and attitude.
“Yes,” I told her, “for those who know who they really are.”
“I know who ‘I’ am,” she spouted.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I am a modern feminist woman of the new millennium,” she replied, “and proud of it.”
“No,” I told her truthfully, and a little sadly, “you are not. And you are not ready to read these two stories, either.”
“Why not? Aren’t feminists good enough to read your work?”
“If you knew who you really were you would know twho I write most of my work for.”
“Who?”
“Everybody, myself, included.“Do you know that all of the natural males and females in the whole world are still hurting and lonely because of you lot?”
“Why?”
“Because it would seem by proof of behaviour toward all men and male that you lot have been conditioned to believe your own propaganda and so, mostly seem to judge and convict all men and males, before you even know which of them is which.”
“Which is which? There is no difference. Are you so different?”
“I feel I know the difference between the two, of both genders.”
“I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t waste your time writing rubbish sex stories.”
“That’s why you don’t know that a difference even exists.”
“Why?”
“You think. Besides, it applies to both gender not knowing the difference. Many men, too, don’t know the difference between a woman and a female, but you feminist lot have seemed to have made a life mission out of pigeonholing all men and males together, as not being good enough for women, period. And you teach those values through specific industries.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“We are all supposed to be friends, first, and then everything will naturally fall into place after that, if it was meant to, and it will proceed, one way or the other, if we at least start off as friends, I feel.”
“How long have you believed that idealistic rubbish?”
“That’s what I conceived when I was a teenager. That’s what I still believe to this day. Now, run along and amuse yourself shopping somewhere else, at somebody else’s expense. I’ve got another story to try and edit.”
“Why?” She asked.
“Because you don’t know who you are,” I said quietly, “and are not ready for the truth of who you really are.”
“I ‘know’ the truth,” she said indignantly.
“No,” I said genuinely sadly, knowing I’d lost before I had even begun. I actually liked her very much or I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of trying to get her to believe.
“You only know a lie,” I told her quietly, “only what you’ve been taught and conditioned to believe by the twentieth century. No offence and not being rude; the opposite, actually. You can’t read the stories. That’s that. They will be too conceivable, too acceptable, and too believable for you.”
“Is that right, Mr know-it-all?”
“Yes. You are not ready to know the truth of who you really are; maybe in a year or two.”
“Yes, I am!” she replied, obviously annoyed. “I ‘am’ ready!”
“For the truth?” I asked.
“Yes!” she answered strongly.
“The whole truth and nothing but the truth?” I asked further.
“Yes!” she snapped back at me.
“Knowing that after you read them, you might never be the same thinking woman you used to be?”
“Yes!” she belted back across her preconeived tennis court.
“Really?” I probed.
“Yes,” she replied with the look in her eyes as well as the sound of her voice. “Really!”
“Then sit down here and read the truth, slowly,” I told her. “Then tell me ‘your’ real truth, if you’re honest enough, with yourself, and with me; the truth that you might just be ready to hear; maybe.”
“I’m ready,” She huffed.
“Maybe you are,” I said, becoming a little indifferent toward her, and we hadn’t even held hands, yet, let alone kissed. “Maybe you’re not. Read the stories then and find out.”
She sat down at my desk when I stood up and gave her my chair. She began to read the two short stories while I watched and waited. She read:
‘REMOTE VIEWING’
© Mesmerr
The bar was noisy with new country music, smoke wafting everywhere and underneath it all, the sense of desperation of those bodies that had forgotten their soul connection.
They thought they would find what was missing in another....the next woman, the next man, the next drink, and the next song....the next.....whatever. In Massachusetts, settling into a corner, I ordered beer I hardly ever drank.
My co-workers had their party, come-hither looks on their faces...married or no, the face was the same. The corner suited me just fine. I could be part of the group if I chose, but sitting back allowed me the position somehow, to look out on the crowd and wonder.....what would happen if......................?
(Yes, baby. I can see you, sweetheart, sitting there, hanging back by yourself, by choice. I know what you’re doing. That’s why I’m here. You can’t see me, but in a moment or two you will sense me. I know you will. I’ll help you. Yes. You can see it in their faces, and feel it in your own. But you know you’re different to them. They are the hopefuls- the ones who will find someone to share their love with-tomorrow.)
(You have found yours today, and I know you know that. You have found it in me, your master, your male, your mate. But you don’t look lonely-contemplative, maybe, but not lonely. Wishing, maybe, but not lonely. How can you be lonely when you have me?)
(And you never know when I might just show up and be with you. I feel like a ghost at the moment, watching you, knowing you can’t see me, but I can feel you’re starting to sense my presence, deep within your inner mind-the one we connect with each time we’re together-your ‘female’ mind—your Indian-Celtic mind. Yes, baby.)
(Nice smile. That’s right. Keep on trancing down inside while you stare vacantly at the faces that all seem to blur into one. You’ll soon be here, and I’ll soon be there. I’ll try to make my visit worthwhile. Not too long to wait now. Just a little deeper and I’ll join you. Just a little more. That’s it. Almost there.)
The band had just finished playing her favourite song....It was her master and she....every word could be her song to him. When they moved on to another song, her body became aware of a subtle change in the bar. The same figures were there....the same people laughing and talking, singing and dancing....but she heard something through a haze.
(Almost there, sweetheart. Keep relaxing. That’s right, baby. You’re almost here, and I’m almost there. Just a few more moments. If only I could tell you.)
(Never mind; together soon, as we have been in your sensory awareness so many times already. Almost there, darling. Just a little more. Relax now. Relax just a little more. Don’t place your glass of beer too close to the edge of the table. It might fall off.)
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall hazy figure moving through the crowd. Could it be? No, he was half a world away.....but wasn’t that him? My heart beat faster....my mind started reaching out for him.....my body following along behind it...Yes!!!! It WAS him. Oh, God, it was him!!
My hands trembled....my legs shook...and all I could do was sit there...watching him come through the mass of people directly to where I sat. Unerringly he came to me, smiling at me.
(Yes, sweetheart. That’s right. It’s me. I’m here. I knew you’d really feel me when I began to walk toward you. Works every time. Look what’s happening to your heart, and your body. Heheheh.)
(Nice to know I have that effect on you, sweetheart. Makes me feel proud that someone as special as you are is really that keen on me. It’s amazing. I’m standing right in front of you and you can’t see me, but you know I’m here. And I am, because you called me. Take my hand. We have a date with destiny. Take my hand, now. Come.)
Holding out his hand, his “Come....” was enough to make me stand, take his hand and follow him. I would have followed him anywhere. My mind was awhirl with emotions Rational thought had left. He was here!!!
He led me to the dance floor, took me in his arms, and I melted into him just as I had always dreamed of doing. Perfect fit.....legs moving against each other, strong arms holding me, the incredible smell of him. Lost in sensation......lost in the feeling of being in his arms....knowing for the first time what we had talked of during those long conversations.
Nothing existed but now....the feel of his body against mine...his breath rustling my hair, my forehead...the sure strength of his hands as they moved over my back to press me more closely to him.
(Your hand is so soft and so warm, fitting mine and wrapping inside it like a second skin. I felt you melt against me in my arms. I can smell you, darling. Mmmmmmmm.)
(And you dance divinely...but we have more important things to do...I didn’t really come all this way just to dance, although the sensation of holding you so close to me has now given me a firm direction...and my firmness ‘is’ now my direction.)
(et’s go sweetheart.,...to you-know-where-a place with a special name where we can be alone. Look up into my eyes now. Kiss me sweetly and long. It’s time to go there now...to Fuck-Heaven...where you won’t need any clothes.)
(Look down at yourself, then at me, sweetheart. This is how we were really meant to be clothed for dancing our special dance.)
Heaven....pure bliss.....and when I looked up at him, my mouth met his in a kiss that shook us both, a little cry coming from me and a deep growl from him. We were the only people on the dance floor.
When I looked down to find our clothes missing, I wasn’t surprised. His hands moved over me, igniting me...making my flesh heat and burn. His pole was so strong against my belly....I smiled to see its shiny and wet head glistening at me. This is what he really looks like.
(Your skin shimmers beneath my touch, baby. And I know you can feel that sensation. I can feel your ignition, the flaming of your simmering core, the release of your molten lava that’s even flowing now as we dance slowly and hold.)
(Your body is preparing for me at this moment...Soon it will be time...Look down at what is coming your way-from me, with love, to you.)
(Gaze at my standing part, so much at attention-so slick in its own preparation to join with the female of its dreams. Feel it pressing its wet head against your belly and the top of your mound as we dance and hold so close. Can you feel your legs trying to open? All by themselves?)
(Oh, sweetheart. Yes, you can. Yes, you definitely can, darling. And I look just like you imagined I would look-down there, between my legs. Don’t I? Yes. I know. I’m just perfect for you, aren’t I? Just perfect.)
My thighs parted, feeling him move down slightly, then rise up again to move that hard part of him deep into my slickened channel....gasping as his length and girth filled me as I had never been filled before.
(Oh, baby. Oh, Sweetheart. I know you can sense me coming inside of you. Your channel is searing and crying with joy at its fulfillment and its welcome and much-needed filling.)
(I know, sweetheart. I know. God, you are as warm and as wet as I knew you’d be-as ‘you’ knew you’d be. See how easily I slide all the way up inside you and fill you to your body’s capacity? So full, sweetheart. So fucking full of me now you are, and feeling every inch.)
(Your gasps are heaven and angel’s melodies to my hungry ears, putting life to the tune of you and I as we dance this way-me inside your body-dipping and turning-lifting you by the mound with the pivot of my cock’s base at your very entrance, filling you a little more, allowing you to feel lifted by my presence outside and inside of you.)
(Yes, sweetheart...’this’ is Fuck-Heaven, darling; such a wonderful name for our first meeting for dance like this. Yes. Fuck-Heaven, a very special place indeed.)
Dancing to the music...dancing with and in each other....hands caressing, eyes loving, mouths caressing....and I was lost. Lost in the man, the mate, the male with whom I had begun to love all these months ago....had never known what love was until he came into my life...
(Yes, sweetheart. You are lost, as am I. But isn’t it wonderful to be this lost? In someone? Of course it is. Can you feel me expanding inside of you as we dance this way?)
(Yes, baby. I know you can. I know. And now you know what the love of and for another human being really feels like. It feels like this. Exactly like this. Isn’t it wonderful?)
“Hey! Where have you gone now???” My friend Kim was yelling at me. “Don’t ya want another drink? You’re far behind us all.”
Drink? What was she talking about? Suddenly the room came back....and I was sitting in her corner, still nursing the same warm beer.
(The next time you invite me over all this way, leave your friend with the big mouth and the bad sense of timing at home. Jesus!)
“Sure....sure, I’ll have another drink.” I replied. Emptiness, hollowness filled me, becoming an ache so unbearable it was a good thing I was sitting down or it would have brought me to my knees. I searched the room of desperate people, searching for my master...for my male, for my mate, for my friend.
And inside I started to cry for the loss of that which I never had, except in my mind. How can I miss something I’ve never had?.....but I ‘did’ have it. I ‘know’ I did.....with him.
(I’m leaving now, sweetheart, but only until you think me back again, when it’s not so crowded. Maybe when you’re alone in bed this very night, where we can really be alone with our thoughts of each other. Really alone.)
(Then we can finish what we started on the dance floor of your mind, sweetheart-in Fuck-Heaven; just you and me. Would you like that? I know you would. I’ll be there, too, because I ‘was’ there, with you, wasn’t I? Yes, sweetheart. I ‘was’ there. And I’ll be back before you can even begin to miss me, as quickly as your next thought.)
And the band played on; “I don’t want to close my eyes, I don’t want to go to sleep, ‘cos I miss you, baby And I don’t want to miss a thing.”
(And when I join you in your dreams of me, sweetheart, we’ll be together again, so you’ll never be without me for very long, just long enough to close your eyes and begin to dream, of me-not long enough to miss me. And then I’ll be there again, because I ‘was’ there, baby. I ‘was’ there....in Fuck-Heaven with you...where we danced, and loved, and held, and fused under deep love’s sun, once and for all.)
The End.
I noticed she did not pause between the first and the second story. She went straight on and read:
MY DEAR MASTER
© Mesmerr
Wishing you were here, or me there.................I would be ripping my own clothes off...putting your hands on my body, pressing and squeezing you to me.....I have it very bad for you today....think of you coming home from work, only for me to take you by the hand to the bedroom and saying....“NOW, Master”......or just meeting you at work after the day is over, the office closed...locking the door and saying..“I can’t wait until you get home, darling. I need you NOW!”
Is a female allowed to do those kinds of things??? I know a wife is......::smiles:: When we get together the next time and we both can stay for a bit on here...make love to me, Master. I need you to fuck me something bad.
Lustfully, your mate, your slave, your female and your breeding bitch in incredible mating heat for you.
Wishing I was, too......Yes..A male’s female can ask for her mate to pleasure her..Or she can simply ask for pleasure..or she can just deepen her milky eyes and present herself prostrate on her hands and knees before him and place both hands upon the cheeks of her behind and offer her openness and vulnerability for his gaze and whatever follows at his pleasure for her own hopes to be fulfilled.
......Or you may meet me in space and time after the day is done..with your little surprise in hand....and you may lock the door...and you may come into my office and smile, then turn to lock that door as well...but you will not see the speed at which I move to you as your back is turned to me......
.......But you will feel my hands grip your shoulders tightly and push you roughly up against the door, grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind your back with one hand while the other rips at your top.
.....“Gently, baby!..I came here to do that to you!”
......“Shut up and say nothing!”
......Your clothes feel like tissue paper, ripping at your flimsy top, shredding it while you gasp, uncertain of my intentions.
.....“That’s a good top!”
......and feel me push you hard up against the door again...tearing your dress from your hips like animal.......
.....“Master!”
.....“Shut up!”
........and reach down and reef your underwear down to your knees.......
......“Get out of them!:”
.....and when you lift your foot to free your panties, feel my hand jam up deeply between your legs...right into your bushy wet centre...I know its wet..Been pining for me all day..you gasp...maybe it hurt...too fucking bad...I am so hot for you I don’t care about a little hurt........
.......“Master! Ooohhh! Jesus!”
......With a shove I reach further into you, searching and finding your cervix, squeezing your flesh from the inside..sensually and hard.
.......“Masterrrrr! Ooowww!”
......Which deepens to a shock and sob as my hand whips out from between your legs, opens, draws back and slams into your ass, slapping you stingingly.........and before you can cry real tears it draws back again...and lands loud and hard and heavily again on your ass........
......“Nooooooo! Masterrrrrrrr!!!!”
......I let go of your hands now....
.....“Brace against the fucking door, or you’ll get more of the same! I want you my way and I’ll fucking have you!”
......and bend you do and brace you do.........Dropping my pants and stepping free of them I free myself....God, that feels good. I am sprung to life....and gaze into your open ass and wet cunt....my dinner invitation to rape you or take you.
I decide on both....You are still sobbing a little and your ass is burning...I can see the red marks....I go down on my knees, spread your cheeks and force my face into your open depth.....my tongue extends and pushes inside your slickness...you gasp...and I nip and bite the sides of your pretty litte cunt......
......You howl...I don’t care.....I assault your ass.....hasn’t got a chance....my tongue strips away its innocence...your starfish cracks opens like a safe...with me the master safe-cracker.....pushing up inside you...your cries change to pants...I can tell....I fuck your ass with my tongue....until your hips are moving back against my face and you are fucking me with your behind....time to stand up.....time to pillage.....time to plunder....
.....“Be gentle!”
.....I say nothing....slicken my head just a little...push against your rim and feel your instinctive tightening...maddens me. How dare you!. Open for me!....I shove and lunge hard and brutally..
.......“Nooooooooooooooooo!”
.......“YEEEEEEESSSSSSS!”
.......You cry and grunt at the same time...I hammer your fucking hips knowing I’m hurting you until you relax and get with your program....
...... “Fuck me, you female bitch in fucking heat for her master!...or I’ll split your backside in two with your tightness!”
............Your breasts are easy and handy to pull on like levers while I rape your ass faster and faster...deeper and deeper....I can feel your looseness coming along as your breath deepens to rasping pants and your wails diminish into chesty heaves as your ass pushes back and your thighs widen..I can feel you getting with your program.
It’s easier...Tight still...but easier...Your hips are working as they should.,,firing back at me like shots from an automatic weapon....I can feel your climax coming......I know you can feel it too......Your hip and buttock movements are too quick...quicker.
Ramming me faster...my cock a blurr of friction and flesh as it hammers you...Driving you home as your mouth opens and your orgasm erupts in your mind and senses. But do I stop?...No fucking way!
I hammer your fucking ass even harder...lifting your feet from the floor while you come and hold you there while I empty my self.
.........“Maaaaassssterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”
“Ooooohhhhhhhyyyeeeesssssssssssssssssssssss!”
....You wail and you cry and you groan the deepest groans I have heard come from your mouth....thinking you would come to my time and space to take ‘me’......You come into ‘my’ lair and think to have your own way with ‘me?’
Like meeting Hitler in the middle of Germany and attempting to make ‘your’ point about the disadvantages of gas?
You walked into your fate and your ass followed. So I hold you there while my cock finishes pulsing inside your clenching ass...and your hips jerk still from your own powerful release, mixed with the pain and shock and surprise and pleasure...forced pleasure at first.
Then wanted pleasure as I withdraw from your behind a lot softer now...but firm enough to enter your beautiful sopping cunt that’s not yet had the good fortune to clench on me ... yet.....It does now… and with a fucking vengeance....
.......God! ...what a hot ‘female’ cunt.....feels absolutely wonderful....you sigh and my length soft and hard fills your female centre...I feel your female grip and your female instinctive milking action...my hands snake around your waist and hold your breasts tenderly now.
I kiss your back...my thighs pressing against the female parts I slapped so hard...warming them, taking away the pain while you feel my maleness filling you softly and fully.
......"“I love you, sweetheart.” I say to you as I still kiss your shoulders and cup and weigh your breasts in my hands....and lie over your back full length and rest inside you...while you sigh loudly..
......."“Oooh, fuck, Master! This was supposed to be my surprise!”
...I shove and you shut up...filled with my length and your own thoughts...maybe you even feel your female cunt beginning to think on its own...maybe it wants its fair share of pleasure, too.....maybe it wants what your female ass just had...and your female mouth will entertain before you leave this office to go and make us our dinner before I fuck you and suck you to sleep tonight.
I’ll teach you to come into the den of your master thinking you will be in control in my own territory...but you’ll have no regrets...maybe you’ll even come again...a bit wiser next time..Wear cheaper clothes maybe?
Or wear none at all under an overcoat..I don’t care..the result will be the same....Come into the panther’s lair....and expect the best and the worst before you leave...sore...but very happy...knowing your master, your mate and your male has just loved you in his own way...the only way he knows....’his’ way, .and that he loves you.....dearly
The End’
She placed the last page down, but did not shift her eyes from it, the last one. She just sat there, not moving. I watched and waited. I could hear her breathing. It was different. A little laboured, maybe.
The room was silent. There was a chance. A slim one. The longer she sat there the greater the chance become.
I waited five full, long minutes. She hadn’t moved the whole time, nor shifted her gaze from the last page. She just breathed. I know. It was the only sound in the room.
Then slowly, she stood and turned toward me, but did not look at me. She just faced me. My heart hammered against my ribs. My pulse pounded in both temples like big bass drums out of time with each other.
My mouth was a dry as the Sahara Desert. Her gaze remained directed downward. Her breathing was still different, sort of shaky, as it passed over her lips going in and out. Perhaps the waiting had been long enough.
What the mind could conceive, the mind could accept and believe. I believed that. I really did.
“Do you feel you have the truth of a remotest idea of who you are, now, really?” I asked, with a parched mouth and tongue. “Not ‘what’ you are … but ‘who’ you are?”
Yes,” she answered softly, after about thirty seconds. Her gaze did not shift from the floor.
“I am... ‘female.’”
And then she slowly sank to her knees before me, her serious face only upturning to catch my eyes as her knees touched the soft carpet floor.
She had so gracefully and so sensually descended, I almost didn’t hear what she added softly, as she looked up and her gaze locked and loaded into mine.
“Master.”
I let out the breath. I’m a believer. I said I was. Didn’t I?
I am now.
Yep. Now, I am.