The Dark Path of Desire

If one were to metaphorically ice a cake, today I indeed iced mine as I knew that minxie had returned straight to her mother’s bosom after leaving the café. I also knew that the mountain had been on her doorstep since dawn hoping for an audience and finally I know that the mountain left very shortly after arriving and returned to the bosom of his father. I am aware that minxie is at home and miserable as I phoned her up to ensure this was so even though my precious did try a moment of bravado-- how she will be the defiant miss to the end and how I adore that attribute of hers above all.

I can see her as a medieval martyr with flames licking at her ankles, renouncing all who stood before her with furious purity. I asked her if she required pictorial proof of his past, not that I had any but it was enough to raise a dread in her voice that gave me nearly as much pleasure as our previous physical interludes. She hung up on me violently which I have to admit is that state I prefer her in,, for when minxie is not thinking straight I can maintain the edge I require to keep her in order.

I had given fair warning that I would destroy whatever relationships she had so perhaps now she will actually believe that all those rumours said about me were in fact a reality which is hers now to bitterly enjoy.

In the past I used to consider how to weave minxie into my life, and more appropriately into my bed, with silken tendrils of circumstance, event and manipulations but now she is used goods and my fantasies take a turn down far darker paths. Now I can inflict upon her the truth of my nature and shall wait until I can have the joy of allowing her the full experience of what it is to share my bed and perhaps my life if I desire the torment to be prolonged. I shall sit back and consider how many ways I can make her pristine skin glow with the sweat of my desire for this has been another fine day in the life of a gentleman of leisure, how glorious!

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