Fire and Blood

"You are such a delight…" he said to me, right after raising his head from between my legs, his beard all covered with my wetness.

He started with a torturing bestial tease, tacking his teeth through my flesh, the inner part of my hips; scratching my stomach and sucking me hard, applying direct pressure to my clit, biting, and licking, absorbing my screams of pleasure and pain... Fearfully I was longing for the soft coming pleasure which the soreness only made more desired.

The soothing soft tongue was indeed more pleasant then it could have otherwise been.

At the right time, he began licking me, at the right place, the right speed and with precise appliance of pressure. It's been so pleasing, so perfect. Like a thirsty beast, he was drinking me in, all the lot of liquid which my body had produced.

My orgasm was very long. It usually is when he's eating me.

He knew not to stop. Feeling my entire body in an orgasmatic state, I could hear his moans as I came in his mouth. He kept drinking ardently, 'till I reached the climax of the orgasm. It was so intense.

He didn't stop. I started shaking, but he only sucked me harder. I couldn't take it, I was way too sensitive. I was struggling, trying to avoid his electrifying touch, but he just kept drinking me in, every little dr0p, just like I do to him.

He violated my extremely sensitive clit, held it in his mouth all while sucking it hard. I went crazy, like a beast longing for freedom I was trying to twist, but he has restrained me with his powerful arms, forcing me to take it. He was sucking my inside to the point of submission, until I felt it in every inch of my body, he sucked the essence of my life along with my river of wetness.

I then succumbed to him. Then he stopped.

Overcoming this overwhelming state, I cleaned his beard with my hand, "You are such a delight…" he said to me…

I thought I couldn't possibly feel any better, but that was until he thrusted his brutally hard 9 inch inside of me.

He ravished me.

It was heaven.

Feeling his thickness through the walls of my temple, reaching so deep, and his body- so close to mine, felt amazing beyond measure. The smell of his breath, and godly sight only made what is already perfect, more perfect than what a human could ever bear to imagine.

Every bit of my body loved him, and his loved mine.

We were united, we were one.

The act was sealed with the returning of liquids, I drank from the divine beast, fed on every dr0p of nectar that he had in him to offer, taking more than he would had given, up to the point to which he drove me to, the astrals of the heaven.

With satisfaction that only gods may ever have, we lay in each other's arms, loved, loving and utterly overwhelmed.

We could never be as happy alone, or with anyone else. We are meant for each other. We see this all the time. Every time I swim in his ocean, every time he melts in my volcano… Every time we are together and our astral world is the only thing we see, we know, that this astral world is meant for us and forever it shall remain our kingdom to rule, as two lovers, the God-King and his Goddess-Queen, together as one.

אני לא מאמינה שהספקתי את שלושת הדברים שרציתי לעשות הערב. אני יושבת עכשיו על הבירה שאני הכי אוהבת אחרי אימון אינטסיבי ומלא בטסטוסטרון (לא, לצערי לא מדובר על סקס, למרות שהייתי עושה הכל for a wild one right now, I'd ride him like a fucking beast), עם אינטרנט, בלאפ-טופ הפרטי שלי. יש רק דבר אחד שהיה הופך את הערב הזה למושלם יותר, לא קשה לנחש.

אוי אין כמו Franziskaner קרה ישר מהחבית.

כתבתי את זה אתמול, רציתי לפרסם את זה עכשיו, למזלי יש לי את ההזדמנות:

My psychologist is a fail. She's far from helpful.  She listens and in general supports, but she doesn't say much, and she definitely doesn't say anything I don't know. I don't think she has anything to offer, I really don't think she knows how to help. I can only keep going, and use her to perhaps help me get out in the future if things don't work out the way I plan and plan B fails as well. Because mentally, I'm pretty sure that I'm already fucked up enough to get myself out, all I have to do is tell her what I am keeping from her now, the dark side of me.

I need a psychiatrist. But a real fucked up one, to which I can comfortably tell all the real fucked up things about me. If she can't help me with the basic things, she'd never deal with the rest. I don't know if I even need such mental help, I am not sure anyone can help me, I don't see a problem with who I am, I see problems in my life, and no one can solve my problems but myself, and I am dealing with them in the best way possible. So really, I can't see any mental help being helpful.

She's just a kind person who went to study psychology so she can help others or because that was the only thing she could have had a real success at. It's such an inferior field, I've always known that. And she's just proving me right. My problems are too great for her to handle or know how to help. I tell her things, she hardly asks the right questions, I tell her and I feel I'm not telling enough, because there isn't much more I can say, and she doesn't even know what to ask, how to advise, she only gives hints of conclusions that I already know, and I know it much more elaborately and perfectly. She'd be horrified to hear what I am inside, I can't let that happen. I don't want to get kicked out of the army for mental low profile, this is last resort. She'd send me to some treatment I bet. What's the worth of psychologists anyways?

I am having a war in two frontages, at the same time. Alone, against the army and my family. Alone, with one companion who's hated in one and has no word in the other, and can actually support me only mentally, however, this really is illuminating my tunnel. He does whatever he can, and I wouldn't be able to do it without him. But he's quite the main cause of one war, I might've never be me without him, not knowingly, who knows what then I'd become. I'm afraid that much worse, keeping it all inside or letting things out in the wrong place or way would get me kill.

I was never meant for this world.

My supposed back to lean on, is but another frontage in my war. I can't call my parents to help me. Truth is, more than I need their help, they need to help me.

There's a certain point in life in which you no longer feel yearning for your parents, you don't really need them or miss them, it's always hard for the parents to accept, they don't want to let go. They don't know that I come home only for them, not for me. Here, finally I do something almost entirely for them, and I can't even say it, for again, this should only hurt them. They want me to need them, they want me to miss them. I can't help it, I wish I did, I wish I did miss them and need them, truth is, I don't. I need them to please them, I don't really need them.

It's a sad thought I think, knowing that if I weren't their daughter, they would hold no love for me at all, they despise everything that I love, and want me to be everything that I am not.

I was never the daughter they wanted, and never a person the world wants.

טוב, יום שבת היה מטורף, המון סקס מדהים, אבל נפרט בהזדמנות, הגיע ידידי לפאב, ומה שרציתי לכתוב נכתב, אז, עד הפעם הבאה...

Dany

Again he has mentioned him.

Again he made me weep infront of him.

Again he began to talk of how I hurt them, the family, how they love me and that's why they won't give up on me, how you can't get everything that you want in life, how he would never burn his family like I did, doesn't matter what...

He said that their wound will never heal, that there is nothing time can do to help, he said it's constantly bleeding, that something's stuck inside them, always making them bleed. And I'm the only one capable of healing them. There's this one thing I have to do... For them it looks all so simple. The y don't know that in order to give them what they want I have to kill my spirit, slaughter everything I ever truly wanted.

He said that they may seem calm, but they always talk about it and think of it, and when I'm at his place, they always worry of me, all the time, and I ask myself- what the fuck?! Why should they worry of me when I'm with him?! What have they turned him into?! A fucking monster?! A killer?! A rapist?! What reason in the world do they have to be worried about me when I'm with him, supposing it was an option that he is lying to me, he wouldn't show it, he'd do anything to protect me to show them wrong. But I know he'd do this out of different reasons... LOVE. He fucking loves me, like they never will, yes, because he love who I am, truly, they will never accept me so it seems, he trusts me, like they never have, or never will. He hates to see me sad, never like them, trying to make me feel bad.

They don't know, that I hurt them because I had to, because I'd be almost as good as dead without it, but they don't seem to be happy about it. I made them sacrifice for me something which they were unwilling to give. So they won't stop calling me to heal their wound, the wound that only I have the cure for.

The cure is my life.

But it won't please them to know it.

I can't even show them, the emptiness, the nothingness I'd become by saving them out of their self created misery. 

I refuse to take the blame for their pain (but it hurts me that they believe it's my fault), they choose to get hurt by what has nothing to do with them at all, they choose to blame me for hurting the family, but there is one individual who has the right to get hurt, and some-why I believe she's careless, only enjoying the drama, the familial frontage against me, she love it, she thinks I deserve it, but do I really? I deserve her hate, but maybe she knows I don't care about her more than she cares about me, so she enjoys knowing they all support this folly, and I have to deal with this mass hatred...

If they somehow make me lose my love, I will never be me, never be, never really.

I'll be nothing but a ghost, a silhouette, my mind should be filled with emptiness and pain, and thoughts of loss, and what could have been if they didn't take him away.

I'd get sicker than I ever have, just to get back at them, to let them realize what small a sacrifice they had to give, in comparison to this, to my life, they'd be sorry only if they see that they killed me. The me that only he, ever let me be, the me that they never truly accepted, have never truly known, and perhaps could never truly love, not if they insist they cannot love him. They can only love me, if they love him. I believe they can, but they would never give it a chance, never open their eyes or hear my words for real.

If they only knew that they actually encourage me to kill myself, to heal them from a non-existing wound, form the imaginary pain that lies in their head, where the true cure is in their very own hands, but their eyes blinded, and their ears deaf, accepting nothing but what their own poison talk tells them. They don't really see me, they don't really hear me.

They preach me for writing. For writing!!! How can I come to them with my emotions, I've been writing ever since I could, that's what I do, that's how I manage, that's what keeping the bit of sanity in me. Am I sane, am I for real??? What is sane? If they are then I ain't, for I am the exact opposite.

A Stormborn to fucking Tullys.

They're killing me without knowing it.

They don't realize he is like me in all ways, love him, or hate me. They play along. Not giving him a chance, but keep telling me how they love me. It doesn't make sense. They don't understand how senseless they are. I can't let them know me, without noticing, they have grown me against myself, they taught me that I shouldn't be what I am, that's why I love my dear one, he always loved me for who I am, with him, I can really be me.

“King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.” – Barristan the Bold

The line between greatness and madness, truly is a thin line. Sometimes it's hard to tell whether my deeds are more great or more mad.

At any rate, I will never take their deal, taking their deal is like turning everything I worked so hard for, all those years- to nothing at all. I didn't go through all this drama and pain for nothing, didn't jump into the fire to get nothing but scars.

I chose to do what I did, and for a reason, I chose to do what's best, what's meant to be, and I ain't sorry.

Their deal is trading my life for their good feeling, which anyways is not to stay so for long, as my spirit dies away.

They don't understand it would be much worse otherwise.

I've made my choice. If I look back I'm doomed.

They can't offer me anything at all, definitely not I've already traded.

Sorry.

I want my freedom.

Daenerys.