<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711</id><updated>2009-02-21T05:12:13.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Titillating Trials &amp; Tribulations Of The Polyonymous Ms. Elizabeth</title><subtitle type='html'>A quintessential concoction of emotions, events ... and Life.  </subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-111160702402082692</id><published>2005-03-23T11:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T11:43:44.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Fire!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don't know what it is about me, but lately I have been emanating so much warmth - and heat.  It just radiates off of me.  I think it is fueled by my desire and passion ... for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know what sweet torture it is to have had you, yet ... you are so far away?  To only taste of your body between such long periods of time?  I become starved and emaciated for your body Beloved.  That is your name now.  It came to me in a dream ... Beloved.  Loved by me.  I whisper your name as I feel the echoes pulse within me of our last union.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beloved ... you are electric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I imagine our next meeting.  I want to caress your face.  Take in each feature through my fingertips and look at you to burn my memory with this image.  The image of you and I ... sitting with our legs entwined ... in the darkness.  You relaxed and receiving.  I taking you into me with every single fiber of my being - angelic succubus.  Beloved, you purge me of the poison of lust and desire by allowing me to take you like I do.  Leave me clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you know how beautiful and precious you are to me Beloved?"  I slowly and carefully whisper into your ear as I hold your face cupped in my hands.  I want you to soak in each word and feel it deep down to your core.  Then when I have let the words linger and make their way to your soul I will playfully, delicately and longingly lightly lick your earlobe and you will hear me exhale as you inhale.  Breath interchanged in close space, and my hand falls from your face down to your chest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel your heartbeat and my other hand travels from your neck to your back, I pull you closer ... and deeper into me.  Our ribs interlock and I close my legs around your waist.  My hands roam free and so do my lips.  I kiss ... your forehead ... your eyes ... your nose ... your cheeks ... your neck ... your shoulders ... and finally.  Finally ... I sensually lick your lips and prepare it for a kiss.  I look deeply into your eyes and see I am inside of you.  And, with that I kiss you.  I kiss you long and hard.  I take your lip and bite it.  Bite it with enough pressure to blur the boundary of pain and pleasure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beloved.  If you only knew.  If you only knew that having you deep inside me.  Thrusting in and out isn't enough.  I want to absorb you into me.  I want to go beyond you and me.  I want that moment where we are both one and time stops.  Where beauty, love and light intersect.  That thin crossroads of what is beyond words yet understood by both.  That you are me and I am you ... that we are one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times Beloved.  At times it feels like I so want to be intermingled inside with you that I think I will break you.  The times I scratch your back and draw blood, I hold back.  I want to tear you apart and see the warm core in the center of you that fills me with such passion and desire.  What is it?  Where is it Beloved?  Is it your scent?  Is it your warmth?  Is it your words?  Is it that look of your eye?  The touch of your hand?  That singular sigh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beloved.  I would move mountains and build bridges for you.  I want to bathe and anoint your body with oils and lotions.  I want to lick you from head and toe, run my hands through every inch of you.  Record you for eternity from the outside in.  I want to swim in your body Beloved; I want to live in your sea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-111160702402082692?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/111160702402082692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=111160702402082692' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/111160702402082692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/111160702402082692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2005/03/on-fire.html' title='On Fire!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-109960637935980524</id><published>2004-11-04T13:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T16:19:09.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FREEDOM &amp; CHAIRS</title><content type='html'>What is with all this talk about Freedom and Chairs&lt;br /&gt;And of waking upon Mountains putting on Airs&lt;br /&gt;Of Sowing and Reaping and drinking in Wine&lt;br /&gt;About Weaving and Spinning in a Dance so divine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of carrying Crosses and talking to Crow&lt;br /&gt;About Crying and Weeping over Seed unsown&lt;br /&gt;Memories and Time that no longer exist&lt;br /&gt;And a feeling of loss as Our Story persists&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you see, feel, taste, touch and hear the Wild Song&lt;br /&gt;It is the rhythm of Life that pulsates among the Human Throng&lt;br /&gt;The sound that We make as our feet touch the Ground&lt;br /&gt;Is but an illusion we keep in our physical Shroud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through the countless Journeys we have all taken through the Years&lt;br /&gt;The Ground is growing weary with spent Blood, Sweat, and Tears&lt;br /&gt;I saw the Big Picture as I was making my way&lt;br /&gt;Through trails forged by others and their hurried sway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took note of the surroundings that they swiftly passed along&lt;br /&gt;And I saw, felt, tasted and touched the sounds of Their Song&lt;br /&gt;"They must be stone deaf," I said out loud&lt;br /&gt;For why can they not Hear their own Sound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can they not see this jigsaw is almost complete&lt;br /&gt;Can they not feel the crumbling beneath their feet&lt;br /&gt;Can they not taste the change that is in the air&lt;br /&gt;Can they not touch the presence ... for they are the Rightful Heir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I stand admist all this as it bruskly overtakes me&lt;br /&gt;I am torn asunder yet cannot make my plea&lt;br /&gt;For this is an event whose time is coming near&lt;br /&gt;And now that I can see the Big Picture I do not Fear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Great Action comes only through Great Loss&lt;br /&gt;And only now are we realizing the Cost&lt;br /&gt;Why fight over what must be and who pays the Price&lt;br /&gt;Because this world isn't made on the luck of the Dice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to hold you all in a Loving Embrace&lt;br /&gt;To bathe you All in the Joy and Peace of Grace&lt;br /&gt;But we tend to believe all the Lies we are told&lt;br /&gt;That Happiness lies in things that are Sold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-109960637935980524?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/109960637935980524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=109960637935980524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109960637935980524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109960637935980524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/11/freedom-chairs.html' title='FREEDOM &amp; CHAIRS'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-109277533646589374</id><published>2004-08-17T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T13:42:16.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am A LEO!</title><content type='html'>The sign of the "Leader" or "Ruler."  Dedicated to the throes of passion, the personality type of Leo makes no exceptions.  "Love me or Leave me, either way you'll always have my heart," should be this signs motto.  Leo is a truly unique sign in that it takes everything to heart, but yet always stays in the dominant position.  Passion, Desire, and Creativity are Leo's middle name.  Leo combines all three to push life to its limits to withdraw life's ultimate pleasures.  Leo people always look good, and try to persuade others to be lavish in their styling.  Leo reminds us all that looking good and feeling good is also an important part of life.  Leo is also a very sexual sign.  That spark of creativity throughout Leo's personality is what most partners are looking for in the bedroom, and Leo types are all too happy to spread it around.  Leo people also have a flair for the dramatic, but this is what makes them so full of passion.  This personality type can take any situation, and turn it into something so big one would be willing to give everything they had for them, and you Leo's know this all too well.  Leo is Desire.  They always place their heart before their head, sometimes making rash decisions which result in messy affairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final Thoughts&lt;br /&gt;With such creativity and dominance in life, the Leo personality should be more than successful in this life so long as they can keep that fire focused.  Over indulgence in the pleasures of life is not always a good thing.  Remember you will always have other opportunities, but why not try to make this one work first.  Try to be humble, and balance some of that childish need for attention into some true creativity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-109277533646589374?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/109277533646589374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=109277533646589374' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109277533646589374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109277533646589374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/08/i-am-leo.html' title='I Am A LEO!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-109117345879311559</id><published>2004-07-30T00:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-30T00:44:18.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 28, 2004 Tarot Reading</title><content type='html'>I use an 11 card Spread. The bulk of the reading is done in two section, The Medicine Wheel (6 cards) and Pathworking (4 Cards). The final card is the Blessing Card, this is what Divinity really wants you to know, beyond all else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Medicine Wheel is laid out much like a compass. There are four points and a card in the middle. Crossing that card is the sixth. The Medicine Wheel is read from the inside out, beginning with the bottom card, which is the Querant position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pathworking Spread is laid out beside it working from the bottom (near me) to the top, in four steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things you should know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wands are cards of personal energy. They are the fire or magick, we project out. If you are familiar with the Kundalini you could see them from that viewpoint. They are physical actions of spiritual or deep rooted desires. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cups are the cards of our emotions and all things inside. They represent the flow of our life. These cards represent relationships with others as well as ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coins represent our material selves. Whether it &amp;nbsp;is career, or money, or possessions it can be found here. Many times we see the things in the “Coins” category as things to attain, tokens of stature or position or whatever. Instead, “Coins”, like so much else, should be viewed as tools and resources. Too often we become personally attached to the material expression of ourselves (not materialistic, per se.) and what we think it should be. For example, your job is a tool, a resource to get you where you are going…it is not what you are. If it no longer suits all of your needs it is time to search for something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Swords represent our mental facilities. They are not only the way our mind processes (anger, love, wants, desires, hopes, fear, aggressive, passive, etc) but also our expressions of those things. How we deal with them. For this reason Swords have also been associated with our creative selves, such as writing. Writing is a great way to express things that are otherwise pushed aside or let to run out of control. It is a good way to get a handle on what is really happening in our livers. And once something is out it is out, it can not return to your mind, but by invitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medicine Wheel:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Querant – 9 of Wands&lt;br /&gt;Crossing – 7 of Wands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;East (New Beginnings/ cycles)&amp;nbsp; - Death (Reversed)&lt;br /&gt;South (Spiritual Gifts/ Physical Journey) – 10 of Coins&lt;br /&gt;West (Things to Go within – meditate on) – Knight of Cups (Reversed)&lt;br /&gt;North (Physical Gifts/ Spiritual Journey) – 8 of Cups&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pathworking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Card 1 (Where you are now) – The Devil (Reversed)&lt;br /&gt;Card 2 (Internal Steps to take) – Queen of Coins&lt;br /&gt;Card 3 (External Steps to take) – Page of Swords&lt;br /&gt;Card 4 (The final Place)&amp;nbsp; - 8 of Coins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessing Card – The Star&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first glance you will notice that Coins and Cups dominate your spread. We are dealing with physical and emotional states here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I see when I look at the cards, is there seems to be two levels of wisdom pitted against each other. A higher wisdom and a lower wisdom. The lower wisdom blocking the output or the expression of the higher wisdom. This is not necessarily a bad thing. This is not saying that you are being ignorant or stupid. It’s just two different levels of thinking and being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing I see, you seem to be your own worst enemy. It seems the problem is action vs. thought or Thought vs. Action, depending on how you’re coming at it. The question I would have to ask, before going any further, is, ”Are you being your own true self?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a question that only you can answer, not the cards and not me, not anyone. Are you being your own true self. Sometimes we do things to express a part of ourselves that is there but is not our true self. It’s…I don’t know the correct analogy…but the square within the rectangle. Or, the rectangle within the square, depending on how you come at it. And that seems to be the best way to sum up your position right now. It all depends on which way you’re coming at it. But, only you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems you’re resisting change. It’s almost as if you know this is what you need to do and you’re not quite ready to do it. You’re being asked, or you are contemplating, or it’s coming up that you’re going to be asked, to let something go. If you want to advance, if you want to move forward, if you want our desire, your true desire, you are going to have to let a part of you lay down and die. And, there again, we are facing that higher self vs. lower self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am definitely seeing a move for you. There’s something…Your placement, your placement, or rather your advancement is dependent upon your placement. Where you are. What the cards are saying is that you’re going to be given that. If you don’t have that structure and stability that you feel you need to be, that is coming for you. That is coming for you. Okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, it’s like a completion. And there seems to be a lot of that in your cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something you’re being asked to meditate upon, something you are being asked to go within and search, is kind of your idea of the “Knight in Shining Armor”. This card is indicated by the Knight of Cups. If you’re not finding the outward, physical expression of what it is you’re seeking, then perhaps you don’t have a clear idea of what it is you’re seeking. Or..or…you have a very clear inner image of what is you’re seeking, but when you try to project that out into the “real” world, you don’t always see what’s before your eyes. It’s like you’re constantly seeking. Perhaps it is time to stop seeking and find.&amp;nbsp; This goes back to are you being true to your own true self, are you following through on that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The relationship is a good thing for you right now. The partnership. The relationship. It’s like two complete wholes coming together to make another complete whole, for lack of better phrasing. There is balance in this partnership for you. And, it would seem, that that is where the resistance is, the reluctance is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see how it all comes together? How it all ties together? The advancement you are looking for in your life is revolving around your inner feelings towards a relationship. And it would be interesting to see your numerology, because that may explain better why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, you seem to be caught in your own “sins of the flesh”, is what comes to mind when I look at this next card, which is the Devil. There’s nothing wrong with anything, and that’s what needs to be prefaced for this card. There’s nothing wrong with anything. Don’t think that this card or this reading is telling you that you need to change anything or do anything different or live a different life or be a different person. What you need to do is be you and what the card spread is asking you is, “Are you being you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life works in stages and cycles. Don’t ever think that an opportunity missed is the only one. However, what ever it is that hides behind Door #1 here, seems to be good. It is the shining star, the shining light. That little glimmer in your eyes. What you’re looking for is right before your eyes and it could make all the difference in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next card is talking about, “What do you want your life to be?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you want your physical life to be? Perhaps it is time to look at that. A lot of what you’ve been doing, or living, has satisfied certain levels of your being; emotional, mental perhaps, sexual…which is a sort of physical expression, but this card is asking you to look beyond individual points and pieces and look at who it is you want to be remembered as. When it is all said and done who do you want, what do you want, to be remembered as?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next card is interesting and I wish you could see it, because the visual alone would speak volumes to you. It is a man in the woods and you can tell he’s moving, he’s looking, he’s sneaking…but with purpose and purpose he knows. It’s like he’s looking for something and only he knows where it’s at. I think that sums up a lot. When it comes to life, only we hold the map to our own personal treasure. The card not only shows that you’re in control, this is your thing, but it also speaks to me of Don’t Miss The Forest For The Trees. &amp;nbsp;And again, this is what I just got done saying. You’re looking at the individual trees (pieces) saying, “This pine tree here and this maple tree here and this oak tree here,” and you’re taking them and from that, trying to envision the whole forest and you can’t. You need to step back from those individual trees and let everything blend together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last card on the Pathworking Spread is back to coins and partnership and completion and abundance and infinity. It’s all right there and you are on your way to it. As soon as you accept it and allow the changes and the shifts, or force them, that need to take place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m thinking that the catch here may be that the relationship you think I’m talking about is not the one I’m talking about. So please bear that in mind. Ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last card is the Blessing Card and this is the Star. I think that kind of says it best. Again, sometimes the cards speak for themselves. You’re on your way. Whatever it is you’re trying to attain, but you do have to accept what goes along with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-109117345879311559?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/109117345879311559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=109117345879311559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109117345879311559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109117345879311559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/july-28-2004-tarot-reading.html' title='July 28, 2004 Tarot Reading'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-109094441560669340</id><published>2004-07-27T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T11:41:58.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Altar of Me - Part 7</title><content type='html'>On your knees before my Font, I offer my soul and body to you, my Master.&amp;nbsp; I adore the brightness of your Purity, the unerring keenness of your Justice, and the might of your Love.&amp;nbsp; You are the Strength and Light of my soul.&amp;nbsp; In you I live and move and am.&amp;nbsp; I desire never to grieve you by unfaithfulness to Grace, and I pray with all my heart to be kept from the smallest sin against you.&amp;nbsp; Mercifully guard my every thought and grant that I may always watch for your Light and listen to your Voice and follow your gracious Inspirations.&amp;nbsp; I cling to You and give myself to You and ask You by Your Compassion to watch over me in my weakness.&amp;nbsp; I implore you Master, to keep me in your Grace that I may never sin against you.&amp;nbsp; Give me Grace O Master, Spirit of Trust and Desire, to say to you always and everywhere, "Speak Master, for thy servant heareth." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I lie there.&amp;nbsp; With the heat of your Candle waiting to be extinguished by the Font of my Desire.&amp;nbsp; My body aches for that release.&amp;nbsp; For you to take this cup away from me ... relieve me of this pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My Beth, I think you are ready now.&amp;nbsp; You are ready to be completely mine ... to give yourself to me in body and spirit."&amp;nbsp; And with that you leave me once again.&amp;nbsp; At the brink&amp;nbsp;... looking down the edge and becoming dizzy with vertigo at the steepness of my Want.&amp;nbsp; Then movement, and I hear the sound of metal and glass coming&amp;nbsp;into contact with each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beth ... it is time for you to deliver yourself to me.&amp;nbsp; For you&amp;nbsp;to become mine ... body and soul.&amp;nbsp; Are you ready for that my darling Beth?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I am Master." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you ready to be my property?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Master ... this&amp;nbsp;girl delivers all of herself to your will and want."&amp;nbsp; I reply in a heavy sigh ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Darling Beth, are&amp;nbsp;you ready to submit yourself completely to my will?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes Master.&amp;nbsp; Into your hands I commit my spirit." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that final word out of my quivering mouth, you proceed.&amp;nbsp; You lean over my face and kiss my cheek ... and the smell of Spikenard oil fills my head ... rebirth.&amp;nbsp; You consecrate my&amp;nbsp;shoulders ... breasts ... neck ... arms ... and legs with the warm dryness of the Spikenard.&amp;nbsp; Once you have&amp;nbsp;blessed my body with your hand you once again lean over my face.&amp;nbsp; Kiss my cheek ... and&amp;nbsp;softly I whisper in your ear ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My&amp;nbsp;Master, you are my heaven, hallowed be Your Name ...&amp;nbsp;Your will be done."&amp;nbsp; And the tears start to stream down my face.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I sense my death near, and my rebirth ... ever closer.&amp;nbsp; You&amp;nbsp;gently wipe my face, and taste the bitter saltiness of my tears upon your fingertips.&amp;nbsp; Once again ... your want ... your need ... your desire ... living through me ... in me ... about to be unloosed upon our bodies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then feel your hands go towards my left side and pick up an object.&amp;nbsp; Though I am blindfolded, I am aware of what it is.&amp;nbsp; It is my kollar.&amp;nbsp; The symbol of my will given to you ... that I am yours ... body and soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Darling Beth ... know that by wearing this kollar you will not suffer eternal fire ... but obtain Salvation ..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I feel the heat of your hands approach my neck.&amp;nbsp; The stainless steel kollar ... cold to the touch ... DEATH ... it is soon warmed by my pulse jumping in my neck ... brought to life as it is locked around my neck.&amp;nbsp; It seals my fate ... yet I am resurrected.&amp;nbsp; It is finished. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wear it devoutly and perserveringly.&amp;nbsp; It is my kollar.&amp;nbsp; To be bound by it means you are continually thinking of me, and I in turn, am always thinking of you and helping you to secure the Salvation you seek my Beth." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am yours.&amp;nbsp; I am consecrated.&amp;nbsp; The curtain of the Temple has been torn in two.&amp;nbsp; I have given up my form to you ... I am in a transitory state of Death and Life.&amp;nbsp; And Your Breath ... Your Fire is what I need to make it across.&amp;nbsp; The Candle and the Font ... the ritual continues ... the stirring ... the stirring ... glistening with oil of Spikenard that you had lavished upon my form ... I am aglow ... going into the Light ... and it is bliss.&amp;nbsp; I am in the rigormortis of want ... need ... desire ... and LUST! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-109094441560669340?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/109094441560669340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=109094441560669340' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109094441560669340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109094441560669340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/altar-of-me-part-7.html' title='The Altar of Me - Part 7'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-109052708544723276</id><published>2004-07-22T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-27T09:09:09.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Altar of Me - Part 6</title><content type='html'>Your salacious lechery has been offered up to the congregation of my mind ... accepted ... revered ... and prayed upon ... I bow as it is made corporeal.&amp;nbsp; Your tongue dancing on my precipice, undulating with hard-pressed desire.&amp;nbsp; Lustful incantations are slathered upon my Altar ... and my blessings are shed upon your supplicating mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A rapid desire emanates from my vestibule upon your pious countenance ... and I tremble with religious fervor at the praises that continue to be lavished upon my being.&amp;nbsp; Your arms begin to reach up to me ... praise ... and forcefully you dig into my breasts.&amp;nbsp; Crucifying yourself upon my frame ... and it is done.&amp;nbsp; I am yours.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stripped down to my barest elements I now am yours.&amp;nbsp; Your property.&amp;nbsp; You only need whisper my NAME ... even through your eyes ... and I am at your command.&amp;nbsp; Your pleasures will be realized ... I am your heaven and your hell now ... Your possession ... and at the same time you are my possessed ... for only through me will your wants ... lusts ... and desires be realized.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gradually pull yourself up towards my face.&amp;nbsp; The rose windows of our eyes are mirrored in our being and the intangible contract is sealed.&amp;nbsp; Your want is my want ... Your need is my need ... Your desire is my desire ... and all it takes is ONE word ... and it is bestowed to you ... My want ... My need ... My desire ... My three in one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Font of my Altar has been consecrated by your seal.&amp;nbsp; Now ... exposed ... it is waiting for the sanctified union of the Candle to the Font ... to be stirred ... to be claimed ... accepted ... complete ... taken into you.&amp;nbsp; That is all there is needed to make me complete.&amp;nbsp; Now ... the thoughts need to follow with actions to induce the sublimation of this carnality.&amp;nbsp; To rise from the dead ... take on a new form ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;Contrition ... O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my Sins, because I dread the loss of heaven, and the pains of hell;&amp;nbsp; but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love.&amp;nbsp; I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace, to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life.&amp;nbsp; Amen ...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our eyes depart from each other as you place yourself between the transept of my Altar.&amp;nbsp; Sitting on your knees ... the heat of the Candle is felt upon the Font ... Condensation ensues ... and the ceremonial concupiscence of carnal knowledge begins ...&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-109052708544723276?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/109052708544723276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=109052708544723276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109052708544723276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109052708544723276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/altar-of-me-part-6.html' title='The Altar of Me - Part 6'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-10903617917760681</id><published>2004-07-20T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-20T15:20:49.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Meaning Of Letters</title><content type='html'>I came up with this poem after reading a bit on Gor philosophy.&amp;nbsp; Though rooted in fiction, many people decide to live this type of lifestyle - which I have found quite interesting.&amp;nbsp; What my friend Scott says holds true.&amp;nbsp; You are truly influenced by that which you read last.&amp;nbsp; Indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I am here to mix up these 26 letters and make them my own. &lt;br /&gt;Define them as I see fit, for they have no home. &lt;br /&gt;To you the word slave holds uncomely connotations. &lt;br /&gt;But to me it stands for exquisite relations. &lt;br /&gt;To be possessed by another - soul and all. &lt;br /&gt;To be there for Him and heed only His call. &lt;br /&gt;To wash the world away with the sound of his voice. &lt;br /&gt;And to venerate Him - that is my choice. &lt;br /&gt;To go beyond the usual boundaries of trust, faith and lust. &lt;br /&gt;To belong to a Master and see it as just. &lt;br /&gt;To give of yourself to all of his pleasures. &lt;br /&gt;For only then will the slave be a treasure. &lt;br /&gt;And that is the moment when you are truly free. &lt;br /&gt;Even though you are bound by His decree.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-10903617917760681?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/10903617917760681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=10903617917760681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/10903617917760681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/10903617917760681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/meaning-of-letters.html' title='The Meaning Of Letters'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-109034604499947489</id><published>2004-07-20T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-20T10:54:05.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>STRUT</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Truer words were never spoken in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Regards to my desire!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Usurping my will!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Somatic mutations of love, lust and want!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;That envelop my body ... displaying my trust!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-109034604499947489?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/109034604499947489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=109034604499947489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109034604499947489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/109034604499947489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/strut.html' title='STRUT'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108998888468554545</id><published>2004-07-16T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-16T12:39:59.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Altar of Me - Part 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;There's a few references to religious items&amp;nbsp;in this one folks.&amp;nbsp; If you're unfamiliar with the terminology I suggest you look it up ... it can't hurt ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.m-w.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Merriam-Webster Online&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I am having so much fun with&amp;nbsp;this one ... I almost don't want it to end,&amp;nbsp;I think I can drag this one out to probably 5 more parts (I'm partial to even numbers for some reason ... hate leaving things odd numbered) ... well without further ado ... here's&amp;nbsp;Part 5.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;I hear you rustling through the dresser next to the bed, and a moment later I hear the click of your pocket lighter ... I know what is in store for me now.&amp;nbsp; I can smell the burning&amp;nbsp;of the&amp;nbsp;candle wick as it is engulfed by the flame.&amp;nbsp; Moments pass and the warm smell of wax fills my senses with ritualistic fervor to please you.&amp;nbsp; I writhe and fight against my restraints, no longer able to hold back my desire ... my lust ... my want ... to praise you ... to sacrifice myself&amp;nbsp;to your sexual appetency.&amp;nbsp; Your iniquities taken into my body.&amp;nbsp; But I am forbidden to display such wild abandon towards&amp;nbsp;you ... and&amp;nbsp;punishment ensues. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;This time with&amp;nbsp;a swift open hand you strike my legs.&amp;nbsp; The coolness that was overtaking my body is slowed ... and the wanton heat that had started to peter out is now raging again ... ignited anew by the warmth of your forceful touch.&amp;nbsp; At once your hands strongly grip my thighs, forcibly digging your fingernails into them.&amp;nbsp; A slight, lax exhale escapes my lips as your grip tightens.&amp;nbsp; You bow and proceed to trail your tongue from my thighs towards my shoulder - your hands follow your tongue ... erasing your prescence ...&amp;nbsp; your mouth finally reaches my shoulder.&amp;nbsp; Your hands stop and knead my breasts ... progressively faster and harder ... like a machine gaining momentum for that one instance of force.&amp;nbsp; Voraciously you sink your teeth in my shoulder and bite down hard.&amp;nbsp; Your assault sending slight quakes throughout my body ... yearning to be set free to hold your head there for as long as I can take.&amp;nbsp; Feeling your hunger&amp;nbsp;for me made real by your ravaging mouth.&amp;nbsp; Your passion displayed in this one instance like a Monstrance holding a precious item ... present ... but yet it is kept from me ... unable to touch it ... only admire it.&amp;nbsp; Once you are satisfied with the mark you've ordained on my shoulder you lean towards my ear and whisper your soft words ... that cut through me like a knife ... &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;"My Beth ... I will be tortourous in your denial ...", and you gently kiss and lick my ear. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;"... sadistic in your wanting pleasure ...",&amp;nbsp;slowly licking again ... cracking the facade of my hard won composure. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;"... and ... cold to your begging for my touch ...", a third and final lick ... I break ... I cry ... I weep to release the yearning in me.&amp;nbsp; Yearning for your esscence ... for you to take my body and make it your own ... &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;With each of those words that so delicately floated out of your mouth the dagger of my want is pushed further within me.&amp;nbsp; Past, Present and Future.&amp;nbsp; Father, Son and Holy Ghost.&amp;nbsp; Three in one ... you are to me three ... my need ... my desire ... my lust - embodied in your being.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulling away again.&amp;nbsp; My short-lived sexual utopia taken away by your hand ... here I lay ... your creation ready to be released.&amp;nbsp; You have formed me ... molded me ... I am your passion embodied ... the physical form of the intangible.&amp;nbsp; I am here ... forged by&amp;nbsp;your need ... desire ... and lust.&amp;nbsp; I can sense your admiring gaze piercing through me ... witnessing the inner turmoil that is undoing me inside.&amp;nbsp; You see it ... you know the end is imminent ... the point where you will break me ... and have me ... take me as you wish.&amp;nbsp; Your Alpha and Omega, destroyed by your immolating rapacity to consume your creation.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;The bed shifted by your weight signals your&amp;nbsp;return to me.&amp;nbsp; Kneeling before my bare vestibule&amp;nbsp;... a&amp;nbsp;low, pleasantly wicked&amp;nbsp;laugh escapes your lips.&amp;nbsp; Your&amp;nbsp;hand caressing my altar, vying for&amp;nbsp;control ... but your&amp;nbsp;patience is overpowering.&amp;nbsp; Then&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;heated&amp;nbsp;wax is poured upon the narthex of my form,&amp;nbsp;I strain to not move as the first of the hot wax touches my cool body&amp;nbsp;- in my mind's eye I see red ... heat ... intensity ... passion.&amp;nbsp; Sealing the altar ... authenticating it ... purifying it ... for&amp;nbsp;the intended receiver.&amp;nbsp; And it is done ... sealed and displayed for you ... waiting for your touch to break me open and consume what is inside.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You lightly&amp;nbsp;stroke the cooled wax ... the textures playing with your fingertips ... the wax like a cool baldachin on the altarpiece of my form ... careful not to break it ... waiting for the moment ... the instance ... of collapse.&amp;nbsp; It is near ... the rise and fall of my sternum gives me away.&amp;nbsp; It is close ... it is near ...&amp;nbsp;I am yours. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;With a steady, slow hand you begin to&amp;nbsp;peel away the wax ... exposing my vestibule.&amp;nbsp; Careful&amp;nbsp;not to&amp;nbsp;send me over the edge and&amp;nbsp;lose me to self-immolation.&amp;nbsp; Your hands expertly working ...&amp;nbsp;unhastened and deft.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My exposure revealing the want you have created ... the deluge within me ... lust realized.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Leaning over you press your face inside me, rubbing ... annointing yourself with me esscence ...&amp;nbsp;your tongue plying away at my core.&amp;nbsp; Pushing ... pushing ... pushing me towards the edge where I'm hanging by&amp;nbsp;a thread of self-possesed&amp;nbsp;equanimity.&amp;nbsp; Deeper and deeper your tongue invades me, taking me in ... and all that is open to it is not enough.&amp;nbsp; More is needed ... more is wanted ... more is desired.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108998888468554545?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108998888468554545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108998888468554545' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108998888468554545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108998888468554545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/altar-of-me-part-5.html' title='The Altar of Me - Part 5'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108974191957392022</id><published>2004-07-13T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-13T11:05:19.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3 Terse Verses</title><content type='html'>The Unknown ...&lt;br /&gt;The Fear ...&lt;br /&gt;The Anticipation ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Want ...&lt;br /&gt;The Longing ...&lt;br /&gt;The Desire ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pain ...&lt;br /&gt;The Pleasure ...&lt;br /&gt;The Release ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108974191957392022?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108974191957392022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108974191957392022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108974191957392022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108974191957392022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/3-terse-verses.html' title='3 Terse Verses'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108974179041960967</id><published>2004-07-13T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-13T11:03:10.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus To Nowhere</title><content type='html'>They will always have tonight. This moment being their last thought as they drift off to sleep. Dreaming of different ways that they could have approached each other, but always ending up in bed together. Looking all around and at everything except at each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting together in their loneliness, close enough to feel each other's body heat, but not close enough to admit that they are desperate for a friendly word - or even a glance and a smile. But they vacantly stare in front of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their eyes are two glass orbs distorting everything - blurring boundaries. "Should I ask him out?" she says to herself. "Should I complement her looks?" he says to himself. "Who knows what to do nowadays ... " They both say to themselves. So they just live, if that could be called living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They both grab their cups with strong anger and frustration until their knuckles turn white. They hate sitting in a cold lonely diner waiting for something to happen. Their loneliness displayed for all to see, like a scab that is not fully healed. They look at their faces in the coffee, before they take a drink, to see if they are still human, letting the taste permeate their tongue to break the trance. It has no effect, they just sit there sipping and slurping, letting their cups bang on the counter to voice their screams of despair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is getting late, and there will be no going out tonight. They know it is time to leave, and strangely they will be leaving at the same time. So they place their hands on the counter to be able to turn in their seat and slide off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turns to the right and he turns to the left. Their eyes engage in a quick and quiet conversation. Then as if ashamed to admit what was just "said" they both open their own door feigning independence of each other. They walk off in seperate directions, she to the left and he to the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a block they can hear each other's footsteps echoing through the lonely streets, bouncing around in their empty hearts. They both walk the city streets tonight cursing themselves for not doing a thing. Maybe they will take a taxi home, or call a friend to pick them up - confessing their ineptitude. Or perhaps they will get on a bus, ask the driver where the bus goes, and whatever his answer they will tell him it could not be far enough. Nothing in this world can take them far enough away from themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108974179041960967?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108974179041960967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108974179041960967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108974179041960967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108974179041960967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/bus-to-nowhere.html' title='Bus To Nowhere'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108973462834906285</id><published>2004-07-13T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-13T16:15:34.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Altar of Me - Part 4</title><content type='html'>Holding yourself so close to me.  Close enough to sense your arousal, but not close enough to feel it ... to enjoy it ... to posses it.  Patiently it waits just outside my Portico ... admiring the sight ... an eternity passes.  Finally your equanimity is slowly becoming undone and you edge closer ... a light tap on the door.  Barely enough to sense what is there, my mind going wild with anticipation of things to come.  I want to accept you inside me.  Feel its force, width and rhythm.  But ... I must stay still ... wait ... wait ... until you see me break.  The ache inside of me to greet that lucious arousal outside my grasp is making me quiver inside.  I must have a facade that appears cool ... calm ... still.  Yet, inside I am hot ... crazed ... I am imploding - on the edge of irrupting in a sudden surge of somatic lasciviousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sense the loss of my composure is imminent as you stealthily linger just outside my limits.  Ever so slowly and softly rubbing yourself on the trickles of passion that have been made real by your hand.  Your creation ... your lust made corporeal ... instilled in me ... a vessel of your dissoluteness.  Your hands playing upon my form in intricately baroque gestures.  Pushing me forcefully towards the breaking point with such subtle and sublime sensory measures.  Straining against my will, wanting to scream ... moan ... and writhe in ecstasy ... but the knowledge of what will happen ... refusal or punishment ... delays me ... holds me back ... contains me in this prison of my own doing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grit my teeth together hoping to concentrate all the force of my restraint on the tightness of my jaw ... grinding my teeth ... biting my tongue.  You see the strain that this bedevilment is putting me under.  And, you take away from me my only fountainhead of release.  Sensual wet licks across my lips.  Becoming increasingly stronger with each pass over my clenched mouth.  Your tongue forcing itself inside me, an obtrusively lustful resolve in your assault.  You squeeze my jaw to open my mouth and your tongue invades me with such animalistic concupiscence that I recoil at the sheer force of that singular encroachment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh ... Beth ... I did not allow you to stir!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SLAP ... you strike my left cheek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SLAP ... you strike my right cheek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think you don't deserve THIS ... not yet ... you must be punished ... and I will enjoy this very much my darling Beth ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with my cheeks heated and aglow from your strikes ... it starkly contrasts the coolness as you leave my side.  Left on my own in this bed ... without freedom of movement or sight.  My body cooling accentuated by the heat on my face ... I start to sob ... crying out in fear that I will not be released of this want .. this longing.  The pain of my desire is nearing its edge, and its stabs into me demanding release.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108973462834906285?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108973462834906285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108973462834906285' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108973462834906285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108973462834906285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/altar-of-me-part-4.html' title='The Altar of Me - Part 4'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108961203886597311</id><published>2004-07-11T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-13T10:55:31.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Altar of Me - Part 3</title><content type='html'>Ok folks! Here's part three of The Altar of Me.  Looks like I'll need to put a Part 4 this is just getting too good for me.  I want to really drag this one out you know.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reminding me once again that my will is not my own.  I am here for you, and you will please me in the way you want ... not in the way I need ... I ache for ... I hurt.  I can only imagine your want throbbing at the entrance of my mouth while you forcefully hold it open.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beth, I have one demand of you.  From this point on you are not to move unless I tell you to.  Do you understand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mmm hmmm" spills out of my mouth as you hold it open.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not asking if you want to do it.  I am DEMANDING it Beth!"  and you proceed to give me a strong, solid slap ... reddening my face and the warmth engulfs my cheek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then quickly you plunge yourself inside so lustfully that I feel suffocated.  I cannot breath from the force of your pleasure, fighting the urge to shake my head to free myself of this.  Your hands grab the sides of my head.  Fingers entwined with my hair ... and you start to make a fist ... veins bulging ... pace quickening as you use my mouth as a vessel for your pleasure.  Faster and faster you thrust in and out of my mouth ... gagging me with each inward motion.  The tears from my eyes only serve to quicken your resolve ... and suddenly it is done.  I feel your warmth spread inside my mouth, making its way down my throat ... your taste so intoxicating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gently start to massage my head, kiss my reddened cheek, and then let go of my head to gently wipe away the tears.  Lovingly you slowly grasp my shoulders ... feeling the warmth of your touch.  You move your open hands across my chest, circle my breasts and roll my nipples between your fingers.  Pulling with gentle ease causing me to arch my back towards you ... and I get another strong slap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My Beth ... I told you ... you are not to move!"  Softly whispering in my ear as you lean over.  Then proceed to kiss my cheek.  At your demand I settle down and prepare for your next instruction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your hands are guided by my form.  They rise and fall across my breasts ... my pulse and breath quickening ... you continue across my abdomen ... my hips ... towards my core ... and you stop there.  Massaging my mound ... kneading ... kneading ... kneading ... increasing the want and the ache within me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my Beth ... you are so full and lucious ... I cannot wait to delve into the depths of my handiwork darling ..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You admire the marks left by your previous assault on my body, and begin to introduce more.  You graze your nails across my inner thighs - and I use every bit of my will to not move.  To not warrant more punishment ... or denial.  You begin to scratch and slap my thighs as I tense up, testing my resolve ... harder and harder with each stroke and strike.  I finally feel the burning sensation between my legs and jerk against my restraints ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SLAP ... "What did I tell you my Beth ... no moving ... unless I instruct you to do so ..."  You lean over by my face and I feel your ragged breath across my face.  "Beth ... remember you are here for me ... you will obey me ... or you will be punished ... you are here for MY PLEASURE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel your member quivering near me ... wanting to invade me, but yet you hold back.  It's outside about to knock on my door.  I so want to rise up and meet him ... but I know such an act will only invite further denial ... building ... building ... building me until I break ... taking pride in your handiwork ... and engulfing it into your being ... to start fresh again.  It seems like an eternity that you lean above me.  Waiting for me to move to punish me ... or waiting to see how much resolve I have to put up with this teasing ... this torture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108961203886597311?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108961203886597311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108961203886597311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108961203886597311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108961203886597311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/altar-of-me-part-3.html' title='The Altar of Me - Part 3'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108931301898644616</id><published>2004-07-08T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-11T22:45:46.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>World of Sex - Henry Miller</title><content type='html'>I'm still working on the third (and I hope final) installment of "The Altar Of Me".  Been busy, and out of that frame of mind - trying to get with the flow ... Though I did find this excerpt from a book I read.  I saved it on a disk of "personal stuff" ... hope you enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;... How little she knew, how little anyone knew, the oceanic depths of emotion which engulfed him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be in love.  To be utterly alone ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus it begins ... the sweetest and the bitterest sorrow that one can know.  The hunger, the loneliness that precedes initiation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the loveliest red apple there is a hidden worm.  Slowly, relentlessly, the worm eats the apple away.  Until there is nothing left but the worm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the core, that too?  No, the core of the apple lingers, even if only as an idea.  That every apple has a core, is this not sufficient to counterbalance all uncertainty, all doubt and misgiving?  What matter the world, what matter the suffering and death of untold millions, what matter if everything goes to pot - so long as she, the heart and core, remains!  Even if he is never to see her again he is free to think about her, speak to her in dream, love her from afar, love her forever and ever.  No one can deny him that.  No, no one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a body composed of millions of cells, sorrow grows and grows and grows, feeds upon itself, renews its million selves, becomes the world and all that is, or the riddle which answers to it.  Everything fades but the torment.  Things are the way they are.  That is the horrible, the perpetual torment ... And to think that one has only to do ones self in - and the riddle is solved!  But is that a solution?  Is not slightly ridiculous?  Moral suicide is so much easier.  Adjusting to life, as they say.  Not to what should be or ought be ...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108931301898644616?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108931301898644616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108931301898644616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108931301898644616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108931301898644616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/world-of-sex-henry-miller.html' title='World of Sex - Henry Miller'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108918265659740639</id><published>2004-07-06T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-20T10:51:40.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strangelove - Depeche Mode</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;There'll be times &lt;br /&gt;When my crimes &lt;br /&gt;Will seem almost unforgivable &lt;br /&gt;I give in to sin &lt;br /&gt;Because you have to make this life livable &lt;br /&gt;But when you think I've had enough &lt;br /&gt;From your sea of love &lt;br /&gt;I'll take more than another riverful &lt;br /&gt;And I'll make it all worthwhile &lt;br /&gt;I'll make your heart smile &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangelove &lt;br /&gt;Strange highs and strange lows &lt;br /&gt;Strangelove &lt;br /&gt;That's how my love goes &lt;br /&gt;Strangelove &lt;br /&gt;Will you give it to me &lt;br /&gt;Will you take the pain &lt;br /&gt;I will give to you &lt;br /&gt;Again and again &lt;br /&gt;And will you return it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There'll be days &lt;br /&gt;When I stray &lt;br /&gt;I may appear to be &lt;br /&gt;Constantly out of reach &lt;br /&gt;I give in to sin &lt;br /&gt;Because I like to practice what I preach &lt;br /&gt;I'm not trying to say &lt;br /&gt;I'll have it all my way &lt;br /&gt;I'm always willing to learn &lt;br /&gt;When you've got something to teach &lt;br /&gt;And I'll make it all worthwhile &lt;br /&gt;I'll make your heart smile &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain will you return it &lt;br /&gt;I'll say it again - pain &lt;br /&gt;Pain will you return it &lt;br /&gt;I won't say it again &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give in &lt;br /&gt;Again and again &lt;br /&gt;I give in &lt;br /&gt;Will you give it to me &lt;br /&gt;I give in &lt;br /&gt;I'll say it again &lt;br /&gt;I give in&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108918265659740639?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108918265659740639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108918265659740639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108918265659740639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108918265659740639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/strangelove-depeche-mode.html' title='Strangelove - Depeche Mode'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108897930104802081</id><published>2004-07-04T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-12T00:32:51.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Altar of Me - Part 2</title><content type='html'>And with the same apparent ease you had at situating me in that state, you quickly pull away.  I can sense your body above me, and with a swift movement you straddle my waist ... tightening your legs around me ... tight ... tighter ... and tighter still until I strain for breath.  Releasing your hold I take in a desperate inhale, and am immediately struck by the dizziness of my rapid breathing.  Heightening my senses further.  Gasping for each breath as if it is my last.  In an instant I feel your hand firmly against my jaw propping my mouth open ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Open your mouth Beth ... Wide ...", punctuating your instruction with a light slap to the face.  My mouth opens up in response to your demand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then roughly your hand presses across my mouth, my cheek ... and you pull my head back by grabbing my hair in your grip.  I feel you moving ... and I begin to sense a familiar smell nearby.  It is your esscence, the object of affection that I have wanted all along ... You stay there straddling my chest, letting me sense it, smell it ... within my grasp.  I wrestle with the restraints, strain my head forward, extend my tongue as far as it will go to have one precious taste of it ... but I am still denied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108897930104802081?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108897930104802081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108897930104802081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108897930104802081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108897930104802081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/07/altar-of-me-part-2.html' title='The Altar of Me - Part 2'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108863796838876812</id><published>2004-06-30T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-04T15:14:35.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Altar of Me</title><content type='html'>This is another little something I whipped up at work today.  Had to excuse myself quite a bit since it worked me up so.  Had a bit of influence by the story &lt;em&gt;"Justine"&lt;/em&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;center&gt;The Altar Of Me&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It starts off like most intimate moments.  Kissing, fondling, rubbing, kneading.  Followed by stronger, more passionate, more forceful shows of affection ... and lust.  Pinching, biting, scratching.  Slowly and surely you ply your way towards my core.  Exploding with delight at each touch you introduce to my body.  Each kiss, suck and bite washes over my being and radiates a sensation of fire across my face, neck, arms, chest, abdomen, thighs and legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I lay in the bed I moan and writhe with want and longing ... a pleasure you will not grant me ... not yet ... and I ache and pain at the thought of being denied that essence of your being that I want so hungrily.  Cat-like, you get on all fours and slowly make your way up over my body ... licking every inch of me as you travel upwards towards my face.  Once you reach the end ... you gaze into my eyes ... with the strong conviction that you know my wants and desires ... and yet as I gaze back into your eyes I know that knowledge forearms you with the strength to be Lord and Master over my entire being.  Yet, I look ... mesmerized ... content ... and waiting ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unblinking you quickly grab a firm hold of my hair and forcefully pull my head back.  Exposing my neck and shoulders to your mouth.  You trail your tongue from my ear, down my neck .. and stop at the shoulder to passionately bite down ... harder and harder .. my breath ... shallower and shallower ... my nipples painfully hardening sharply against your chest.  As you continue this assault on my neck your free hand roams towards my awaiting altar.  With force you make your way expertly inside with your fingers and partake of the passion you have arisen in me.  The gushing forth of my desire spurns you aggressively on, continuing your assail on my shoulder.  You pause as your hand leaves the warm wetness and you place your fingers on my mouth, coating my lips in a benediction of arousal and passion you have brought to light ... slowly you lick my lips ... then force your tongue between them ... prying them apart ... hungrily we invade each others' mouth with darting tongues and heaving sighs ... grinding ... moaning ... tasting my esscence ... comingling with each other ... and building up my desire and longing to be had by you ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grind against your hips hoping to awaken some wild abandon in you.  But with that same act of want ... you pull away ... cooling my desires ... edging me on to the brink.  You grab my wrists and open my arms, binding them to the restraints on the headboard.  Then forcefully you graze your fingernails down my arms ... across my breasts ... abdomen ... hips.  Making your passion known as the warmth of your markings throb, breaking me down further into a mad desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the strength in your hands as you part my legs ... exposing myself to you.  Scratching my inner thighs you make your way towards my ankles. Then, just like my wrists, you use the restraints at the foot of the bed.  With one last, quick, deft movement I am yours.  My body ... my being ... no longer mine.  I am warm ... electric ... your nails mark paths that are opening my senses ... I am at your mercy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, for the final surrender ... you blindfold me ... I am at the mercy of my senses and your hand.  Then, as if that was not enough you prohibit me to speak ... no control ... no say whatsoever ... complete trust and surrender.  I am only to speak THE WORD when you have reached my limit ... and even then ... I will do my best to push beyond that boundary ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It then begins.  Your domination over me. The slow, shallow breath of your mouth praying upon my altar - lustful supplications.  Warmth ... Coolness ... Warmth ... Coolness.  Heaven and Hell.  The feelings intensified a thousandfold, for the moment only capable of the sense of touch.  Your breath feeling as if a thousand little fingers are prying to get in ... wanting ... desiring ... but you cool the fire as soon as there is a spark.  Coolness ... then at your leisure your tongue extends towards that most pleasurable entrance.  Instantly I can feel the heat as it approaches and I tense up in anticipation of what is to come ... but you stop just short ... and I pleadingly moan ... I writhe ... I struggle against the bindings ... yearning to be set free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patience ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good things come to those who wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am here for your pleasure ... your enjoyment ... your want ... your need!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You continue yet again ... teasing ... teasing ... teasing.  And, finally at your whim you finally plunge your lusciously wet and warm tongue through the portal.  Simultaneously taking a deep breath ... taste and smell.  Licking me in adulating glee ... appreciating every inch that opens up to your wanton tongue.  In return I grind against each assault of your tongue ... building ... building ... building.  Your hands tighten around my hips.  A strong, firm grip.  Tighter and yet tighter still until your fingers make contact with my hipbones.  Then release, as you scratch your territory ... laying claim to what is yours ... claiming my body in a way that nobody ever will ... or ever can.  The battering ram of your tongue continues its' pillage of my altar ... tearing down the defenses with each stroke.  Rawness ensues from my struggle to be free.  My arms and legs tense as I yearn for liberation.  To be in control ... but that is not allowed.  More struggling ... rawness ... until pain and pleasure begin to combine into an intoxicatingly delicious concoction for the senses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108863796838876812?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108863796838876812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108863796838876812' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108863796838876812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108863796838876812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/06/altar-of-me.html' title='The Altar of Me'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108862589297955421</id><published>2004-06-30T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-02T15:55:18.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Esscence Of Senses</title><content type='html'>This is a short little story that I wrote on my feelings of what a D/s relationship is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;center&gt;The Esscence Of Senses&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence.  Nothing but Silence, and it is deafening.  Too Loud.  I can't take it.  Restrained by my MASTER.  Waiting for HIM.  So I may please HIM ... An Eternity.  Blindfolded ... So I cannot see the FUTURE, only experience the PRESENT, and ignore my PAST.  No thinking, Just Action ... Just Now ... Just MASTER and slave ... Seperate ... Different ... But ALWAYS! ... EQUAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same coin, different sides.  Feeling vulnerable in my NAKEDNESS ... of BODY and SOUL ... Restrained.  Blinded.  Unaware of what will happen.  But, TRUST ... Trust that there is ... LOVE ... and understand that FAITH ... in my MASTER will quell my ... FEARS ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my Choice, and my Choice is to SURRENDER ... IT to HIM.  To let HIM guide my PLEASURE ... for tonight.  Mmmm ... I can feel his presence, like the warmth of a fire ... PASSION.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hands.  HIS hands.  Roaming my body, not physically touching me, but yet they touch me ... their WARMTH ... their PRESENCE ... overpowering.  Blindfolded and restrained makes every &lt;br /&gt;TOUCH,&lt;br /&gt;BREATH,&lt;br /&gt;LICK, ...&lt;br /&gt;... CARRESS ... overpowering.  &lt;br /&gt;Like it is the FIRST time such an act has been introduced to my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concentrated ... Focused ...&lt;br /&gt;... PLEASURE ...&lt;br /&gt;Each lick ... on the Nipple, Breast, Arm, Neck, Earlobe, Cheek ... Trailing down then towards the ... Chest, Abdomen ... Detouring towards the ... Thighs ... Legs ... Avoiding the &lt;br /&gt;ONE PLACE&lt;br /&gt;That is becoming the concentrated core of all this&lt;br /&gt;PLEASURE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writhing and Moaning ... telling with ACTIONS what words CANNOT justify.  Cannot be expressed in a duly manner ... with WORDS ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only ACTION is allowed ... and primitive actions ... result in PRIMAL responses.  Getting to the core ... the ESSCENCE of what is PLEASURE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TRUST ... LOVE ... FAITH ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The touch of APPRECIATION.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It defines the difference between just SEX amongst&lt;br /&gt;TWO PEOPLE ... and&lt;br /&gt;SEX between &lt;br /&gt;TWO LOVERS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that difference is sublime ... When that ONE touches you ... in the same place ... In the same act ... That you have experienced before ... It takes on a whole new meaning.  When the pretenses of EMOTION are discarded ... even for THAT moment ... nothing but SENSES rule the body ...&lt;br /&gt;And ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is when you can fully UNDERSTAND, GRASP ... and EXPERIENCE the &lt;br /&gt;TRUE meaning of ...&lt;br /&gt;TRUST ... LOVE ... and ... FAITH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108862589297955421?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108862589297955421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108862589297955421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108862589297955421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108862589297955421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/06/esscence-of-senses.html' title='The Esscence Of Senses'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108844178096908591</id><published>2004-06-28T09:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-30T23:57:30.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Journey Towards Branding!</title><content type='html'>What is branding?  It is having a design or symbol placed on your body with heated stainless steel or a cauterizing tool.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the purpose?  It depends on the receiver's perspective.  To me it is a symbol of change ... awakening ... and self-acceptance.  Everyone has their own little ritualistic celebrations for such things, and this is mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have been lucky to have an individual accept the task of finding a design for me.  The meaning of which is primarily significant to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to admit that the thought of going through this is bringing about anticipation and fear.  Anticipation as to the design ... the experience ... and the hope that he will be there to see me through this.  Fear ... of the pain mostly, but that can be dealt with ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through these past few months I have learned many things.  Things that have awakened me to accepting myself and who I am.  To see past the boundaries I have placed on myself, and see what lies beyond ... what have I prohibited myself from experiencing.  And, this is a journey for the strong ... because rejection from many is sure to come along ... but that is of little consequence when I gain the world and myself in the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108844178096908591?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108844178096908591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108844178096908591' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108844178096908591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108844178096908591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/06/journey-towards-branding.html' title='The Journey Towards Branding!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108818919363836168</id><published>2004-06-25T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-07-02T09:08:00.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Awake and Alive</title><content type='html'>People.  What is up with people in general.  In my life I have only come upon a few select individuals who actually possess the virtue of reason ... to a certain extent.  Other than that ... most people are part of the herd mentality.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned to stay away from those type of individuals.  Why should I put myself in that environment.  I have learned to be myself.  To not seek acceptance from others, but from myself ... and you know what ... dammit ... it feels good.  Friggin' GOOD!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not proposing to be some cold, harsh bitch here.  No, I still have values, ethics, morals ... in a secular context ... I do not attach society driven definitions to words that belong to us all.  And, most of all I still have my feelings.  By declaring these statements I'm not saying I will forever be happy.  Just because something (ex. sadness, depression, loneliness ... you name it) goes away doesn't make it dissapear.  It is still there, and always will be there.  It is in how you deal with it, how you face it, how you interact with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am FREE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108818919363836168?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108818919363836168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108818919363836168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108818919363836168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108818919363836168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/06/awake-and-alive.html' title='Awake and Alive'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108802835417643376</id><published>2004-06-23T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-23T15:05:54.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life ... or something like it!</title><content type='html'>I find it strange at times how I can pull back from the world. To just sit there and be a casual observer of what happens in front of me.  And, for some reason it always seems like other people's lives seem so much more interesting than mine.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do but go to work, go home, work out ... and have a bit of youthful (though I am 29 - blegh!) indiscretions sprinkled throughout.  For the longest it seemed like I was just following some unknown script, and looking into other people's lives ... well ... it made mine look kinda ... BLAH! ... BORING! ... and ... just plain sucky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, now I have run into a bump in that road of Life.  One, that I never thought I would have to go through.  So ... what could that be?  I have the task at hand to decide what future road I will walk on ... and a good bit of that decision lies with what I will do with my present relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I pick love or convenience.  The hard road or the easy road.  Decisions ... Decisions ... Decisions ...  I know in the end it is up to me, and I keep in mind that sometimes the best path to take is the most difficult one.  Because, in the end - whatever I pick ... I know it was all determined by me ... MY CHOICE ... MY LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, off for some introspection ... and talking to myself like a crazy woman to come to a DECISION.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108802835417643376?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108802835417643376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108802835417643376' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108802835417643376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108802835417643376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/06/life-or-something-like-it.html' title='Life ... or something like it!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7264711.post-108733375731301494</id><published>2004-06-15T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-06-15T14:12:57.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you do when LIFE doesn't give you lemons ... but throws tomatoes!</title><content type='html'>Well, it's one of those "the world is against me" type of days.  Mainly ... because it is.  I guess I haven't exposed all the facets of myself here, but here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 29 years old (wow ... I can't believe I made it this far!).  I have been diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) or as doctors assuredly call it ... Syndrome X - plus, this brought about Type 2 diabetes.  Life's a bowl of cherries (geesh! what's with all the LIFE and FOOD analogies!).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, despite all this what else is it that can be wearing on me.  Well, just the fact that around the corner I sense another medical malady coming my way.  Since last Wednesday my right breast has been very tender and hurts like hell.  Going to the doctor to see what's wrong with me now.  I swear, I am so used to being poked and prodded that I am becoming apathetic to the whole process.  It's almost got it's own rythm ... about every 3 months I get a through "overhaul" of my systems (AKA: The Works ... or Blood, Urine, and whatever else "analysis").  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just that I have a reached a point where I am so friggin' sick and tired of .... of ... being SICK &amp; TIRED!  It wears on you sometimes, and to be honest ... I can't even recall a day when I felt good.  That in itself is a sad thing.  But, I trudge on ... draggin' my ass ever forward towards more ... "analyses".  Yay!  Woo Hoo! ... Gotta love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, what's a girl to do.  I just have to live it - or at least I try to convince myself.  If I look at all this objectively I can see that i'm in a situation where I have to deal with it.  I can't get rid of these "things", just gotta accept them ... deal with them as best as I can ... and move on.  Though, it is hard to live a full life planned around what time you can take your pills ... most of the spontanaity is gone ... and it sucks.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why me?  Why me?  Oh geesh ... I'm such a pathetic whiner.  I'm learning though ... learning ... slowly but surely.  Yeah, my hope is to look back at this blog and laugh ... at what a pathetic whiner was.  Note I use the term WAS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok ... that felt good ... almost therapeutic ... I have purged my mind.  Thanks all for reading this vomit that has emerged from my mind, and not running away in horror holding your nose and mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7264711-108733375731301494?l=chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/feeds/108733375731301494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7264711&amp;postID=108733375731301494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108733375731301494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7264711/posts/default/108733375731301494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chartreuse_monkey.blogspot.com/2004/06/what-do-you-do-when-life-doesnt-give.html' title='What do you do when LIFE doesn&apos;t give you lemons ... but throws tomatoes!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18053286709588113481</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='10687360384930549022'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>