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OWNER AND PROPRIETOR of ALL INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY & RIGHTS
From the Mistress Elle Chronicles
💗🥀❄️The 2nd artic blast, of 2014, spread across George—like one of the 7 plagues of Egypt. As the blizzard’s cold snow falls upon the secluded mountain bungalows and swanky enclaves; the heat rises for three trapped lovers and their journey of primal discovery; in the midst of a secret community of twisted carnal games, and dangerous rituals. This perilously dark and enticing sect is duly named… “THE SLIDE”!💗🥀❄️
The Only Question…
“Can or will love survive, interject, and resurrect itself… or will carnal need and greed win the day???!!!
ALEXI’S CARNAL PSYCHE WAS NOTHING SHORT OF A REPROBATIVE DARK HOLE… SO HE THOUGHT!
7INTRODUCTION (Abridged Excerpt)
Metro Atlanta – North Georgia Mountains – 2013/14
There I was──naked as a jaybird on a cold hard slab face-down, while participating in this ardent and peculiar type of hedonistic and paganist ritual (my initiation and membership… into this very sacred and hedonic sect). God… only knew the why’s and what the hell of it? Because via the scents of Mur, frankincense, opium, and God knows whatever else──my sense of reasoning and critical thinking was purposely and unanimously… out the fucking door. Safe to safe, rather I admit or not… I am and was a willful player in this unique peasant and paganism event: which paved the way for dark sardonic fuck to unleash his angst, madness and uncontrollable fury.
…. Yuri cast every ounce of his discontent and fury into his last and thirteenth whip across my pain laden backside, as his wide black leather and spiked whip yelped his fury! What in the Effidy-Pluck was up with this shizah???!!!
Obviously, that son-of-a-bitch was angry with Alexi and me from the earlier NDA and Cohabitational agreement signing in which he felt favored Alexi’s best interest…verses his own. His angst was of no consequence, Alexi protected my best interest overall. Sometimes balance is about giving the woman a far greater lion’s share of the power. But … “a lie never lives forever”! By provoking Yuri’s angst, we unwilfully released a very dark, quiet, and stealthy beast, lurking in his depths and psyche. (Boy did we underestimate Yuri’s angst and fierce discontentment!)
Because that damn boy nearly crushed my shoulder blade as he delivered his last and final blow. The entire room of onlookers and members gasped, while simultaneously clenching their fist in repulsive disdain, for such insolence and disrespect.
Their whispers echoed through the rooms upper acoustics like a virus spreading at rapid speed! The rules were strict and very “divine feminine” oriented (S.L.I.D.E. rule number one… women are goddesses to be worshiped and cherished… and always protected). Clearly, one of their members didn’t get the message. Needless to say, Yuri not only crossed the line──that selfish fucker crossed the “Rubicon”, but truth be also known. A total unacceptability, in the eyes of the sects’ members.
Now… members tastes for revenge would not only thirst… but thrive within their depths. No doubting it, he would be handled, so to speak, at a more appropriate time. All eyes and concerns were now on me. Well… at that point.
Of course, as I collapsed deep into that well decorated ceremonial table underneath me from pain and confusion, a darker primal entity was so too awakened. (No member of our sect counted on… nor expected this… me most especially!)And it was a hot white with the hunger of revenge. I will show that narcissist fucker the dark side!
In the interim, Alexi, or rather Yugo (my safe word between He and me only) and a few other members from the sect raced over to assist in keeping me from complete and utter descension into unconsciousness. But…it was to know avail. I remember only taking in a deep breath: which appeared to hang in my throat for an eternity, Along, with droplets of blood trickling from my pours, the likes of tiny needle pricks (in away the stinging was kinda carnally stimulating. I know… sick as hell. But no less true. Sometimes beast mode just works for some folks.
Reminder. I did iterate that his thirteenth blow unleashed my own dark beast. Who had lain dormant fort nearly fifteen years? This dark and hedonistic sect was completely oblivious to her resurrection into their fold. Nothing would ever be the same during our sacred rituals … ever again! But at that particular point in time my fury and primal hunger were at a more heighten sense and threat matrix (Somehow… the term “naked and afraid” …minus the red leather bondage harness, white fleur-di-lei rosary, and white thigh-high laced stockings… just doesn’t quite say it!). The thought that Alexi/Yugo would save me at all costs, forced its way to my frontal lobe. My horror began diminishing rather quickly.
Next, I collapsed in the arms of Alexi and another member hiding behind a funny court jesters mask (as the other members wore simple painted white faces with the appearance of ghosts from fairy tales, of my youth). It was so ominous, yet dark and petulantly curious (quite an unadmitted and unexpected dark turn on). Of course, he too (the jester) was wearing a white hooded velvet cloak made of the finest velvet and silk with golden and red tassels. The same as Alexi and Yuri. I know this because on instinct──my hands tightly wrapped themselves into their cloaks (Alexi and the court jester).
Because I felt as if I needed to cling to something tangible and rough. My ass had flipped over as my ever-weakening body began tilting towards the left side of their robes where I noticed the two symbols as I looked up in shock and awe from the stinging pain──infinity and the fleur-di-lei! Why their cloaks stuck in my head… conscious or not… is anybody’s guess. (I would come to understand the meaning of those symbols, later.
Know this, however, both gentlemen had the look of hungry wolves wanting to avenge the newest member of their pact, or rather…hedonic sect! Moreover, ──I remember clear as a bell… my last thoughts as I rapidly slipped into a deeper level of unconsciousness….
“How in Sam hell did we end up in this crazy space?”
But to answer that I would have to go backwards, meticulously, via my life’s history before relocating up in those north Georgia mountains. Swanked up enclaved and paradise… or not!
BY “QUIET DESPERATION
Incited and driven with ghastly needs, and relentless wants, to the point of me looking like a deer caught in the headlights, or rather between the sights of rabid hunters… something within my mentally and emotionally PTSD! battle-worn spirit had to give….
Impulsively or not, I knew I had to move boldly and swiftly, if I had any iota of wanting to bring about tangible changes I could feel, rather than continually daydream about in my life…like some daze and confused grad-student coed seeing the world realistically, for the first time. The rose-colored glasses were off! Especially, during that point in my life’s history.
Because attempting to live and navigate my way through Metro Atlanta’s ever changing and concrete jungle environment was becoming a very daunting and overwhelming task. To the point of my feeling utter disdain and resistance to the overgrowth and change to the Metro’s true beauty and harmony, that I so vividly cherished with my very soul. Well… at least at one time. (My tears streamed, literally, during every down pour of rain from the pain).
We self-proclaimed southern traditionalists are funny that way. The rapid and over-the-top transition to our southern enclave, we felt, was beyond the pale. Plus, a very scorning betrayal… not only by our Gods.
But those whom we trusted with our vision of what Metro-Atlanta should… and should never ever be──a mini–New York! Me most assuredly.
Seriously──my ass didn’t truly understand the true profoundness of this change, at the time. But I was just over it all. The sensing of my valued southern traditionalisms fleeting my grasps the likes of a Haley’s comet across the constellations; the ever-growing inner emptiness of desertion clambered and riled in the pit of my stomach, the likes of a high-powered jackhammer as it left gaping holes in my depths (no lie).
Clearly, I needed to desperately seek some form of peace of mind and spirit. Especially, if there was any chance or hope of salvaging my brokenness and intimate wreckage. But most of all I needed love and devotion, from all sides. Of course, if I ever wanted to feel whole, or like myself ever again in life.
Starved as hell intimately, to the point of my loins and inner sanctum feeling dryer than the Mojave’ desert, began splintering my left brain into frayed fractions. My body’s, most certainly its intimate parts, felt as if I had been cast into pre-menopause…or something close to it. Way too young for that scenario or feeling.
Total non-starter if you really think about it. For a gal who’s a self-proclaimed control freak I could no longer fathom, emotionally nor mentally, not having a firmer grip on my love life, as well as my social life. Worse──I was far more aware of why I felt that way inside. More aware than I would ever wish to admit to anyone. Right or wrong, my ass was jaded and cynical as fuck optimistically. How could I not? Continually, warring with the wanting needs of slaking desire. Lordt… I could barely stand my own self and existence. When a woman, who knows herself is that distraught by her feelings, it’s time to make “command decision” type of moves. Guess what Y’all? I was just that type of broad-shouldered-broad! Despite my melancholy emotions and self-doubt.
However, deep down in my battle worn soul I knew, instinctively, that the war within me had begun to peak, to the point of full-blown collateral damage of my inner core and spirit. So…without a moment’s hesitation… very detailed planning and horrid impatience… I headed north, to the mountains, for my new an emotional reprieve, adventure, and to begin charting a new life in sensually uncharted waters, so to speak.
Call it self-preservation! But my body quaked from the need of intimate touch, warm words of sentiment, understanding, and most of all… binary sensual reverie. Shit… my libido and ego needed firm long-term stroking. The how or why’s of it, were not essential… only the acts themselves. I knew, beyond any shadow of doubt, that the type of Alpha-Male type I was both needing and salivating at the mouth about… were awaiting my arrival. Just a wanting woman’s noting. It was my state of mind, at that time, in my life. Goodness… if I only knew!
…Hey, a woman can hope.
…Sometimes … I swear. I felt like Samantha’s character, from “Sex in The City” … only wanting that temporary intimate fix. Without all its commitment, pomp and circumstance, and fairy-tale endings. Lordt!
Cleary… I was far more naïve and clueless than one could have ever imagined. But pain, hurt and desperation will take over your life, long before you could ever feel or notice it. Especially, after opening my life and sensuality to both Yugo (Alexi) and his cousin Yuri. Because the darkness that I felt I was seeking was no match for their reprobative black hole. This is where my journey of dark intimate, intellectual, and spiritual re-alignment, so to speak, began. As I reached the “point-of-no-return with Metro-Atlanta; its antics, and most of all her… so called “polite society”, as a hole! The move occurred just as rather stealthily, winter of 2014. Behind the guise of the perfect storm──the 2nd artic blast over Georgia.
Nothing… and I mean nothing… in our lives would ever be the same, again! Only question… is this what we truly want? But were too damn pansy-assed to face it both intimately and spiritually! Because we were nothing short of carnal harlots and reprobates, no matter how hard our “call back spirts” fought against it. Greed over need is a zero-sum game (winners take all), so to speak. Always! And Alexi, Yuri and I were willful and wanting players.
But Make No Mistake…
This Mistress Elle Wouldn’t Go Quietly Into That Good Night!
I Will Show Them All… Mr. Yuri, ESPECIALLY!
“I WILL SHOW YOU THE DARK SIDE, YURI!!!
How’s That for A Teaser My Lovely Book Voyeurists???!!!
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