Thread: Passing Strange

Lol Puffin is underage.

And I really struggled with including Raspberry for the same reason, though she's of age now (barely). But then I considered her actual persona on the board and in chat, and yeah - I don't even have to modify it really. She's already like a character in the story.

Puffin isn't like that though, and I wouldn't present her as sexualized since that's not like her real board persona. I suppose she's the innocent who must be protected from all this decadence, though it's already tainted her (in the form of zombie-ism).

It's not just the females though - all the characters are powerful sexual personae of one type or another, and it seems the more sexually ambiguous ones are the most powerful. O, as the strong heterosexual male warrior had to die early (Honest dude - it's not cause you're black! Really! ).

And your character is so mean only because of the evil influence of this hellish place on her vulnerable personality - it's made her vindictive and petty toward me especially, probably because my jealousy for her makes me an easy target. The only reason everybody is laughing and frolicking now while I wander lost and hopeless to my doom is because the healing made them all feel so wonderful and euphoric - it's not that they don't care, they're just buzzed really hard right now and only emerging from it slowly.

*Influences*

Since I keep mentioning sexual personae, I should mention that I ran across that term in a book actually named that, written by the amazing Camille Paglia: Sexual Personae @ Amazon

She's basically an art historian who specializes in psycho-sexual readings of great art and literature throughout history, and this book changed my life. It's huge - but I've read it like 4 times now and will probably read it a couple more.



She reveals how to understand the powerful sexual personae in some of history's great works of art. Ah hell, I'm not even gonna try to encapsulate it or anything _ I couldn't do it justice. A lot of people get really bent about her - she's the kind of writer you either love or hate. But I think a lot of people lose sight of the fact that she's talking about ART and not life. In literature and painting and sculpture etc, things are exaggerated and modified to suit the story or the message.

Also want to mention my all-time favorite author Fritz Leiber. He wrote an enchanting fantasy series about a pair of rapscallions and rogues called Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser: Fafhrd &Grey Mouser series @ Amazon

I've read the entire series probably 4 times so far...

(I linked to a new edition here, but to get the full experience you MUST find used copies from the 70's with covers painted by Jeff Jones!)



It's from him that I really get this desire to write in flowing elegant archaic forms. His greatest inspiration was Shakespeare and it shows, though he manages to keep his wording low-key enough to not become flowery and overwrought (usually).

*Quotes*

This one will be presented at the very beginning - alone on a blank page inside the front cover:

"Why would mother nature highly activate your brain, paralyze your body, sexually activate you, and force you to watch these things we call dreams?"

~ From the Nova program "What are Dreams?" available through iTunes in the TV shows section.



I haven't figured out the Dr.'s name yet who said it - I need to watch the whole thing to figure that out so I can credit it properly.

Also I want to include this one somewhere - possibly under the 1st one on the same page:


"Are dreams the nonsensical byproduct of a sleeping brain, or a window into our unconscious mind, rich with revelations?"

.. From the same program.

All that giggling you just caused me has put me in a much better mood than even a few minutes ago.

I love coming here.

It seems like everytime i wish for it, there's something new to read!

19

Sirens

I'm melting beneath their constant kisses and touching and the gentle kind things they're saying to me and their laughter and singing. It touches something inside me that hasn't been touched in so long. And that needs so badly to be touched.

I'm openly weeping with emotional relief as they crowd around me, arms wrapped around me everywhere, hands sliding caressingly over my skin and through my hair, lips brushing against my face again and again, sweet warm breath on my cheeks, on my neck, silky soft hair against my skin.

They begin to walk me toward the back of the gazebo, and I see there's a large open pit behind it that can't be seen from in front. They lead me down stairs into it - it's a large room the walls of which are heavily hung with instruments of subjugation and domination - whips and chains, riding crops, handcuffs, ropes, paddles and flogs and flails of every description. Instruments the likes of which I've never seen and the uses of which I can't begin to imagine.

I know the love they promise is not real. I know it's a sham - a masquerade - a game of dominance and submission, of teasing and humiliation - I know all this and yet I am more than willing to submit myself to it here and now. I even know it might be more than a game - in fact probably is. This is hell after all - once having given myself over to bondage I understand I may well be offering myself up to all manner of depraved tortures and eternal damnation, probably every bit as terrible as what we witnessed when passing between the Burning Field and the trench of the giants.

I know, and yet I go.

That part of my brain that shut down when I realized I was not to be healed like the others is still not functioning - the thinking part. The part that would tell me to get out now, however possible - the part that would have known better than to even come here - to even walk away from that pleasant meadow in the first place.

The only part that's functioning now is the part that's been hurt too much and knows only that it can't allow itself to be hurt any more. And while it realizes it's walking into a trap it doesn't care - it either can't understand the subtleties of the situation (obviously it can) or it just wants to sink into some final place where at least the jealousy can't twist in my gut anymore like a long knife, and where, if I have to suffer inconceivable torments, at least it won't be in front of them - in front of her. At her hands.

So I go.

*Character Notes Sirens*

From the Do you have a Fetish? thread ~

Originally posted by DeeryTheDeer
"I dig bondage (on the guy), and taking advantage of him. Also his public exposure/humiliation. But not that as much as the former."


Originally Posted by Tara
"Does doing a guy in the bum with a strap on count as something? A fetish, a kink, a quirk?"

Blueberry outift and wings
(wings much darker blue and lingerie should be white)


Tarara and Mary outfits and bondage tree

In the center of the floor stands a large wooden X made of heavy timber. It has various iron rings and bolts arrayed around it for attaching chains and straps and ropes and handcuffs. They push me gently up onto the small wooden platform attached to the front of it and lift my arms up against the crossmembers. The one who called herself MaryTheMare ties my wrists securely - extremely securely. Then my ankles and finally my waist and neck. I can hardly even struggle now.

She runs a hand teasingly over the side of my face and makes mocking sounds, her smile becoming hard and cruel, and when her long cool fingers slide into my hair she clutches it and starts to pull savagely. She twists my head hard to the side and pushes it back at an angle, then slaps me hard and ringingly across the face.

The other two select implements from hooks on the wall - Blueberry a thick nightstick and Tarara a huge shiny black strapon that when she steps into it hangs to her knees. They gather around me, and now the faces so recently lit with joy and compassion and false love are grim and cruel, the sweet voices harsh and mocking.

MaryTheMare and Tarara wheel the huge standing cross around to face the back wall of the pit and Blueberry with her bright blue wings steps to the wall, which I see now is actually a huge steel warehouse-style door. She trundles it open with a loud echoing clangor and revealed behind it I see another room - not an S&M dungeon but a butcher's workshop four times as large as the pit we're currently in.

Fully a hundred of the upright crosses stand in this room, more than half of them occupied and the rest pushed against the far wall awaiting use. And hanging from the walls of this room are more implements - not of sexual torture and bondage - instruments of dissection and barbaric surgery. Long vicious saws and all manner of smaller ones - knives of every description, axes and adzes and hatchets, drills and augurs and needles - clamps and tongs and pincers and vises.

The air is alive with constant moaning and wailing - torments of the damned who hang from the big crosses with heads lolling against their chests and bodies hanging numbly from wrist restraints.

They're heavily smeared with blood, dripping and running freely with it, and many of them - perhaps all of them - are missing pieces. Fingers, hands, forearms, entire limbs, noses, lower jaws, squares or rectangles or circles of flesh cut from body surfaces. Some have long open gashes sliced into them and held open with clamps designed for the purpose - and some of the gashes are through the abdominal wall - reminding me instantly of O and the brutal disemboweling he suffered at Neener's cruel hands. And indeed - a few are even themselves in the slow process of disemboweling, onto spindles similar to the one she used.

All of them are men - or were men. All have already been blinded. All have already been castrated. Somehow I understand these are the first losses they suffer - and the first that I will suffer.

Now that I begin my eternal torment.

Good Ghandi, it's cupcakes all over again!

Lol ok, I'll pretend I understand that and just move right along then...

"Ghaaaaaa!! How can the two of you STAND it??!!" Blueberry shouts. "All the constant wailing and moaning and shrieking. I mean males suffering I don't mind - I rather enjoy that part, but the blood is murder to rinse off my wings, and all the damn incessant noise!! Like to drive a girl crazy! Don't you ever think about a nice quiet job?"

"Quiet?!!" Tarara laughs. "Do you know where you are?"

"You're in the Jungle Baby!" MaryTheMare grins evilly, snapping her riding crop for emphasis. She obviously deeply enjoys her work. Now she hangs the riding crop on an empty hook and instead takes up a frightening pair of thick short-bladed shears the purpose of which is only too easy to guess. I actually feel a momentary surge of relief already - it means my swollen lacerated burning torment is near its end at last.

"This one is different you know." Blueberry asserts. "He's alive. He won't last but a few minutes once we start in. Of course, once he's a dead soul then we can work him over for all eternity and all, yeah, but I mean I'm just sayin'.. "

"Yeah!" Tarara snaps loudly, smacking me across the thighs with the heavy strapon. "What the hell! Why are you alive? How did you GET here?"

I haven't spoken since Eri's cave - had no plans to ever speak again. Screaming yes - and all that. But no speaking.

But now they demand it - in the way that only vicious dominatrices arrayed with tools of surgical dissection as well as sexual humiliation can demand something. And when women like that demand something - particularly with you trussed up helpless on a wooden cross - it's very difficult not to comply.

"Come on. Just get on with it. Cut me open. Begin my torment. I don't want to talk."

"Fuck it." MaryTheMare decides."You heard him ladies - let's get busy." She places a hand on my belt buckle, starts to struggle with it. I'm straining toward her hand eagerly - it means sweet relief at last.

"No." Blueberry states with finality. "Something weird is going on here. Maybe we'd better ask the boss how to handle this. Have either of you ever gotten a live one before?"

"The boss?" Tarara laughs cuttingly. "Hell with the boss! He doesn't want to hear from us! He just wants us to do our jobs and not bother him. Isn't that right?"

"That's right." MaryTheMare nods emphatically. "Don't be such a noob Blueberry! You're still too new to be questioning us. Just shut your damn mouth and do as you're told, bitch!"

"Oh hell that's it!" Blueberry explodes.

And she turns into a winged blue wolf and tears them both to shreds right there before my horrified eyes.

Lol ok, I'll pretend I understand that and just move right along then...

It's a... uh... interesting fanfic about the pink pony. Link is in the word 'cupcakes.'

Love the progressively horrific description of the Sirens' lair (post #233); from the unassuming gazeebo, to the questionable sex dungeon, to the unmistakably sinister butchers' room. Chilling stuff. Well done.

Originally Posted by redisreddish

It's a... uh... interesting fanfic about the pink pony. Link is in the word 'cupcakes.'

Doh! My bad! I'll check it later.

Originally Posted by Oneironaut

Love the progressively horrific description of the Sirens' layer (post #233); from the unassuming gazeebo, to the questionable sex dungeon, to the unmistakably sinister butchers' room. Chilling stuff. Well done.

Thank you! Plus it parallels the nested cellars that began this whole thing - from regular cellar to Coal Cellar to dog tunnel that finally let out into the story. Just about everything has echoes elsewhere in the story (at least when I'm paying attention).

*Character notes Blueberry*

Ok, now I can share the image of Blueberry in her werewolf form (that I didn't want to reveal before now for obvious reasons):

Yet another really bizarre coincidence concerning this tale - it just occurred to me that I'm writing about a wolf and last night I had a huge wolf scare - there's apparently one prowling the woods right near my house, which causes big problems when you have a dog who needs to go outside and loves to go for walks and won't stop pestering you until you take her on one: http://www.dreamviews.com/f16/rant-r...ml#post1774521

And: http://www.dreamviews.com/f16/rant-r...ml#post1774575

Too fucking weird.

Lol, Darkmatters! You should hunt it down and see if it has wings!

Haha!! Maybe Raspberry's mad about the way I'm portraying her and she's out there now stalking me...

(Or just making her presence known so I'm sure to watch my Ps and Qs... )

Yet another weird coincidence - the yard where I saw it last night happens to belong to the guy who's installing a door in my house right now. He showed up this morning to do the work and I asked him if he had heard about a wolf nearby. He said no. Then I asked if he has a German Shepherd or similar dog - no.

Awww shit!!

And - to top it off - he's also a bowhunter who frequently shoots deer right in the neighborhood (down in the woods I mean). I told him he needs to go out and kill it and he said he's gonna sure give it a shot.

Just too freakin weird...

Oops! Just realized- maybe I should also look out for angry deer out there - one might stomp me because I killed Deery off already..

* * *

"Fuck this job." She says, still in wolf form, blood dripping thickly from her muzzle.

Then her violet eyes fix on me.

"What do I do with you?" She asks. But she's not addressing me, she's talking idly to herself. "Let you go? Leave you here with the rest? Probably I should devour you. Otherwise I can see the scandal - Live One Gets Through, Massacre Ensues.. "

She advances, bristling and growling savagely, teeth bared and bloody. She's a big wolf - not as big as Neener's, who stand as tall as a man - her head is exactly on a level with my crotch, and I'm standing on a wooden platform attached to the front of my bondage cross.

Suddenly she lunges, mouth gaping, and snatches the sausages hanging from my belt - flings them into the air and snaps at them twice, downing the entire string (which consists of only three sausages). And at that moment, just as it did when DeMonica used her Main Gauche on the horse this morning (was it really only this morning?) all my swollen burning crushing pain recedes instantly.

And I can think clearly again.

Only now do I realize how insane I've been - how suicidal. Suicide would be preferable really, because it's an end (actually I might have to revise that idea having seen this place).

The savage wolf puts a paw up on my platform and starts sniffing all around my chest abdomen and crotch.

"Got anymore of that tasty sausage?" She asks and licks the front of my shirt with an amazingly long pink tongue that's frighteningly strong.

"Um - well not on me." I extemporize. "But I do know where you can get more - a lot more."

At this she turns back to her human self (which I like a lot better) and cuts my bonds.

"I was wanting to get out of this shit-hole anyway" She says as we walk toward the door. "Nothing ever happens here."

* * *

Once we reach the gazebo I spot Serafiend across the stream, riding on Zombie_Muffin's shoulders! Controlling her movements by forcibly turning her head this way and that. And shouting Giddyup.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here." She calls. "Thought I might be too late though. Come on - everyone's worried about you."

They're actually all scattered about, searching for me in the dark forest. I must say it's pretty heartwarming and makes me feel like a complete asshole at the same time. Sera gathers them all together by the simple expedient of riding on Blueberry's back as she runs through the forest. It's simpler than trying to maneuver a raging snapping foaming zombie, which is tricky at the best of times, and the wolf has excellent tracking abilities and a wicked sense of smell.

Soon we're all gathered around the white rock - a tuffin for the time being. King Diddy seems to have recovered some of his aplomb, or at least shaken off the worst of the depression. Having important work to finish can do that.

"Alright," Sera begins "There's a rickety shack in the far corner of the clearing - it's pretty far around the bend past the gazebo - you saw it from the air when we were landing." She's untying the empty water jugs from under the sledge - hands them to me. "Go and talk to the Hoarder. He'll LOVE these, trust me - but depending on what it is you're trying to get back from him, you might need to throw in more stuff - old broken junk is best - it's his thing." She reaches up and pulls off Diddy's silver tiara and his string of cultured pearls, throws them on the ground, and starts stomping on them.

"Shiny stuff that's actually valuable, that's Sleeper's domain. The Hoarder is a junk man through and through - won't accept anything new or decent."

(Response to two posts ago)
Horses too, and pigs, dogs, lions, elephants, harpies ...

The butcher shop description was horrifying. The abrupt change from the dominatrix situation to the mutilation chamber was done well. I thought you might have added the wolf in because of your situation yesterday. I had a dream last night in which I continued to read your story and the Raspberry wolf started journeying with us.

Originally Posted by Dianeva

(Response to two posts ago)
Horses too, and pigs, dogs, lions, elephants, harpies ...

Oh my!

Originally Posted by Dianeva

The butcher shop description was horrifying. The abrupt change from the dominatrix situation to the mutilation chamber was done well. I thought you might have added the wolf in because of your situation yesterday. I had a dream last night in which I continued to read your story and the Raspberry wolf started journeying with us.

"mutilation chamber" - Awesome!! Stealing borrowing that!

I always intended to use the blue winged wolf because it's not only Raspberry's sig pic, but I've heard her say she actually IS a blue winged werewolf.. (Oh, and I also always intended for us to meet her here at the end of our trip through picturesqe Infernoland)

Just such weird timing, right when I start writing about it..

I've been preparing the way to introduce the Raspberry character for a while now - note the repeated echoes of her name in many of the names of characters found on the island of IRC (Raspy_Sleeper, RaspAntlers, OldRaspa, A^Raspxxor ) plus the predominance of blue furry beings there. It's coincidence that Raspy_Sleeper is also blue - he chose the pic of the dragon himself.

I also laid some groundwork for her arrival long ago with a couple of posts on Do Date Marry that were perfectly set up (coincidentally) by Zhaylin..

*Miscellaneous Character Notes*

The ones I neglected to post in the appropriate places:


From the Do you have a Fetish? thread ~

Originally Posted by Erii:
"Licking and Biting"



Image ref for Raspy_Sleeper ~
Originally posted by Heavy_Sleeper on If you could choose any form what would you be? thread:


That's all I can think of right now - if I come up with more I'll post it.

Yes, we are seeing a great many furry blue creatures. This is indeed strange.

20

Burzy

We carefully and gingerly pick our way through rows of rusty old pickup trucks, the bare frames of various unidentified vehicles sitting on concrete blocks, broken-down motorcycles, stacks of car batteries, a wall of air conditioner units, ranked water heaters, pyramids of large steel and plastic drums, cracked and rust-streaked porcelain toilets and sinks, old bicycles with bent frames or bent wheels or no wheels at all, huge wooden TV consoles with the glass smashed out, rotting mattresses in crooked sagging mounds, tractors, trailers, and stacked tires of all sizes.

Somewhere behind or beneath or within all this chaos lies a tumbledown shack of some sort - but we never see any exterior part of it aside from the door, which has a cracked wooden plaque nailed to it saying Redneck Resort, and just beneath that a tin sign reading Redneks Welcum - all uthers make appt, and beneath that a ragged hole apparently made by a close range shotgun blast.

Through the hole pokes a massive head - ugly as sin - twice as wide as it is tall, and split entirely in half by a huge slavering mouth bristling with wicked pointed teeth. It's growling - a sound like someone starting poorly-tuned earth-moving machinery. A pit bull.


"Entre, entre!" comes a good-natured shout from within. Apparently we're just supposed to brave the dog. I open the door and hold it, hoping the vicious thing runs out as we go in. Instead it stands there rumbling savagely like a small brown bulldozer at us. I cringe as I step past it - I'm really tired of having vicious powerful jaws right at the level of my crotch. This has got to end soon.

Just as the door is closing behind King Diddy there's a flurry of blue wings outside and Blueberry steps through.

"Sera thought it would be a good idea if I tag along" She smiles sweetly, then turns into wolf form and growls at the dog, who instantly ducks his head, tucks his tail and starts whimpering.

A good idea indeed!

Inside the shack looks pretty much the same as outside the shack. There's precious little floor or wall visible, just piles of junk with little curving trails running between them here and there. Everywhere are more of the little signs, proclaiming Redneck this and Redneck that, all with tacky little sayings carved or woodburned or painted on them.

Blueberry has backed the frightened pit bull into a cul-de-sac. It's the first time I've seen her from behind in wolf form, and I see that in wolf form she's male. Astonishingly male in fact. Ridiculously male.

"Wow! Like a couple'a coconuts in a sac!" the voice exclaims from somewhere amid the piled debris.

It's obvious Blueberry really relishes terrifying the poor dog. I suppose it's her Siren nature. But I must say it's good for once not to be the one being terrified.

"Gentlemen - " Pipes the voice from somewhere in the expanse of detritus. There's movement ahead of us - an amazingly thick arm extends - a hand as big as my head - and gradually I begin to distinguish a man sitting there - a vast man - sprawled like some decadent heathen chieftain across a throne of refuse.

"I'm Burzy. What can I do ya for?"

The voice is incongruously high and squeaky for having issued from that gigantic chest.

We shake the hand in turn, or rather allow our own to be swallowed by it briefly. It's immensely warm and damp and sports many large gaudy rings. Behind it his face is an expanse of pale flesh - voluminous - generous. Enormous.

The frightened whimpering of his pit bull suddenly escalates to a new level and becomes punctuated with a rhythmic quality. We turn to find Blueberry has mounted and is humping it forcibly, driving it mercilessly face-first into a stack of folded blankets and cushions that do nothing to muffle its cries of shock and pain.

"Oh dear... " Diddy apologizes "I hope she's been spayed?"

"A Haaw Haaaw! I aint worried about it!" The vast man rumble-squeaks. "It's a He."

"Oh my!" Diddy continues. "Well you might want to keep it in the yard after this. I'm afraid he might sustain some bowel control issues."

"Yeah... " Burzy agrees slowly, looking in wonder at the sight. "That is quite some equipment the wolf is packin'."