Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

ISept 23, 2004As every comic book geek knows, every superhero is born of a traumatic, life-changing event. Be it the death of the Uncle Ben or the full scale destruction of Krypton, those moments are what forges them. Kitty Girl is no different. The seeds of my transformation were sown by my very own arch-nemesis, a man who shall ever more be known simply as The Monster.It was the sound of glass shattering from which she was born. That is my last clear memory of my 22nd birthday. Afterwards there was only confusion and a series of images that I still struggle to put in chronological order. What led up to that moment, however, I remember with crystal clarity despite the fact that I prefer not to share.The worst thing about the ICU was the loneliness. I felt cut off from everything and everyone I loved, bewildered by the spider web of tubes and wires that held me trapped as I drifted, half way between worlds, my only anchor an ever growing collection of post-it notes left by the parade of nurses that visited me. Each time they would pull me back into the world of pain that I had thankfully left behind every time I closed my eyes and I began to resent them. The nurses, that is, not the notes. The notes were my life-line to the girl who sat in the waiting room, eyes rimmed red as she scribed cheerful notes with her beloved Waterman pen on brightly colored post-its. There were drawings, too, even though by her own admission she can’t draw. Her cats looked like hamsters and her flowers looked like… well, hamsters. At least she had the hamsters down. Each time someone went into my room, she’d insist that they take as many post-it’s as they would. They ended up lining the railing of my hospital bed, brightening my life, connecting me to the outside world and, more importantly, to her.I stayed with her for a time, until I could find a place of my own. She became the big sister I had never had for the second time in our relationship. Together we explored this new world I had stepped into, this new life, one defined by fear. I found solace in writing and began to create a world in which the man who did his best to break me was a knight in shining armor, a prince. I fell in love with him again, only this time, the ending was a happy one. Believe me, I am all too aware of how sick that was.I took the events of 6 months and turned them into years, and the line between reality and illusion began to blur. This was how I coped. Eventually, I moved into a small apartment of my own, eager to start all over, to leave the past behind, not yet aware of how tenacious history can be. I took the jigsaw of my delusional stories and lost myself in them, creating new personas for myself, becoming them for a time. My madness didn’t last long, but long enough to leave an indelible print on me. The one constant in my life became Kay’s visitations, her phone calls, her presence. She learned when to touch me and when I couldn’t bear to be touched. She stayed up through the night with me when I was afraid to turn off the lights and close my eyes, knowing that the world of dreams was a dangerous place to dwell. She learned how to deal with the seizure like nightmares that would leave us both frightened and drained and unable to slip back into slumbers. And she learned to accept the parade of one night stands that I embarked upon, using them to erase the memory of The Monster. His touch, his kiss, his cock pumping in and out of my tight ass…Together, we began to put the jigsaw puzzle of my psyche back together, a patchwork with missing escort izmit pieces, but whole enough for me to get on with my life until the following September. I approached my birthday with dread, becoming increasingly neurotic as the month slipped through my fingers. My nightmares grew more frequent and worse, they began to seep into my daily life. I’d zone out while doing the simplest things, suddenly remembering that day, the terror that I’d felt, and emotions too complicated to even grasp. I became resentful of Kay. After all, in a way, she had introduced me to Him. We fought, or rather I fought, screaming at her, spewing all the anger that I’d kept welled up inside me for the past year at the only target I had. She weathered it, although I discovered later what a toll it had taken on her as well. Over the past year I’d begun using my flesh as a canvass. Black sharpie pens were my go to instrument, and I’d begin scribbling little thoughts or bits of story or dialogue on the back of my hand and my arm. It was harmless, or so we thought at first. Slowly that changed as I discovered other tools, often waking up in the middle of the night with the urgent need to document a half remembered line that had come to me in that place between worlds.It all came to a head on my birthday. It was a quiet affair. My best friends were all present, and my family. There was a store bought cake with sugary flowers on it and too much frosting. I hated it immediately. Despite Kay’s best efforts to draw me out, I was sullen, communicating in as few words as I could manage, if at all. The mood wasn’t one of joy but rather of a brewing storm. Asked to cut the cake, I became angry as I discovered something else the Monster had taken from me. That cake became an object of hate for me, a reminder of what had been done to me and a great surge of hatred rose up in me as I stabbed it over and over, screaming obscenities. Afterwards, I fled the scene of the crime and sought sanctuary.IIGrace Cathedral. It lay across the bay from my crappy little apartment. It had been a constant in my life since the first night I’d done ecstasy and ridden on the back of a motorcycle through the October rain, touring the city. Our journey had ended there, and we’d spent the rest of the night in its shadow, only leaving after witnessing the sunrise. Since then, it had been where I’d gone when I was troubled, often seeking solace on it’s steps, letting God’s love wash over me, hoping that somehow, He would wash away my fears.Laid out before the church, there was a labyrinth, a winding path forming a circle. One way in and one way out. It drew me like a moth to a flame, each foot step taking me closer and closer to the center and farther and farther away from myself. I walked so slowly, pausing at times. I wasn’t alone. Others walked the path too. Not a big line of people, but enough so that I was never completely solitary. Despite that, I felt alone. We were of two different worlds, I realized. They walked in one that I could never return to no matter how far I traveled.They passed me carefully, respectful of my pauses, of how slow I traveled. I can only guess at how long it took me to reach the center. 45 minutes, perhaps. Once there, I simply sat, feeling cold and empty, my thoughts thankfully blank. I’m not sure what I was looking for, only that I needed something, some reason for going forward. I began to despair when no messenger of heaven came to visit, nor did any celestial voice fill my head with promises. And so I sat, the izmit escort night creeping in, my legs falling asleep, fading in and out of awareness while the world slowly passed me.I’m not sure how long it was before I noticed her presence. At first she was just a shadow sitting down beside me. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t even look at me. She was perfectly still. Eventually, I shifted, leaning my head against her shoulder, letting her comfort me. We both wept silently and I, without even realizing it, fell in love.When I was ready to go, she took me home and put me to bed, promising me that everything would be all right. The next morning, we talked over breakfast and I shared my feelings, how the celebration of the day of my birth had taken on a new and sinister meaning.”So pick another day.” She said, leaning across the table and taking my hands tenderly, squeezing my fingers so very gently.While I have always been the dreamer, she’s always been the practical one. I was a bit dumbfounded by the simplicity of it. We settled on October 1 st . It was close enough to my real birthday that I could pretend any well wishes were simply arriving a little early and yet far enough away to give me a little distance from the memories that will probably always sneak up on me with my true birth date rolls around. I decided to tack on the two years I invented as well, putting more space between what had been done to me.We made love. It was tentative and scary. It wasn’t the first time I’d had sex with her, but it was the first time I’d been intimate with anyone in the past year, and the first time since my feelings had changed for her. She didn’t know that yet, and I didn’t tell her, not for a very long time. Afterwards, I lay in her arms, slowly drifting between worlds once again, not afraid to close my eyes for the first time in what seemed like forever.”What do you want for your birthday this year, Rachel?””World peace. Or a pony.” I joked. We settled on Kittens.Two weeks later, I was the proud owner of a pair of 9 week old baby girls whom I fell madly in love with at first sight. It’s no exaggeration to say that they saved my life. They filled my little apartment room with life and joy, getting into everything, keeping me awake at night with their antics. How nice it must be, to be so carefree, to not having any worries, no needs other then food, water, a clean litter box, and the unconditional love that I showered on them. They played until they were worn out, and then they slept. I began to do the same. Slowly, I healed. Kay became a constant in my home. If I was my kitten’s mother, she was their doting Aunt. We grew closer, became a family, and I began my first tentative steps towards kitten-hood, crawling around on the floor with my girls, batting toys around, sleeping nestled in a blanket underneath the dining room table rather then in my bed. In fact, the only time I slept in the bed anymore was when Kay shared it. Of course, I didn’t admit that to anyone. I began to stop wearing the long sleeved turtle necks and baggy trousers that I’d been wearing over the past year, becoming comfortable once more with my body as the physical scars began to fade. Soon, I was romping around in my underwear or less. Although it was years later that I bought my first pair of ears and was given my first collar, I had already begun my transformation into Kitty girl.IIIOctober 1, 2010She dressed me carefully, admonishing me to be still, using that tone of voice that warned me to comply. izmit kendi evi olan escort The silence between us was comfortable as she carefully fastened button after button up the back of my dress, the one that I’d just eagerly unwrapped. Beneath it I was bare, save for the gold barbell that pierced the hood of my clit. She bid me to sit on the bed, and I obeyed, my heart tripping all over itself as she brushed my hair carefully, the light touch of her fingers against my neck and shoulders intoxicating. I wasn’t sure what she had planned, but I knew that it would be special. Carefully, she affixed my ears to my head while humming so softly that it was almost silent. Lifting my hair from the nape of my neck, she completed my transformation from girl to kitten by buckling my beloved collar around my throat.I began to purr, already feeling all the pent-up angst I’d been feeling over the last week slip away. It had no place in my life or, at least not the life of my present incarnation. I mewed softly when she told me to stay, feeling her presence slip from the bed and leave the room, my blue green eyes still shut tight despite my curiosity. The click as she attached her leash to my collar stirred up the butterflies, their fluttering wings beating inside my ribcage, sounding suspiciously like my heart. I flexed my claws, playfully thinking that it would be fun to open my mouth and let them out so that I might chase them around the room.She spoke, her voice soft, soothing words that an owner would share with a beloved pet and I remembered that feeling, the first time I’d fallen in love with her. It was a magical moment, one that I’ve held onto since. How I ever thought I might be able to slip the invisible tether that holds us together, I don’t know, nor why I would want to. I am hers, now and forever, both her girl and her kitten.”Come on, kitty. We’re going for a ride.”I was eager, suddenly, my eyes opening wide, my smile unfettered by the shadows of my past. She laughed, a smoldering sound, as I pulled at my leash, tugging her towards the front door, not caring what any voyeurs might think about my lack of shoes or my collar. Had I been naked, in fact, I don’t think it would have mattered.We spent the ride in a comfortable silence, touching, always touching, either my paw upon her thigh, or her hand upon mine. She looked especially beautiful, her dark hair framing her face. Charcoal gray trousers and a matching sweater over an impeccable white blouse that showed off her curves and I couldn’t help but notice she’d chosen knee high leather boots. I smiled inwardly, having lovely memories of being made to clean them with my tongue while she stood over me, smacking my bare bottom with her riding crop. I took this for a good sign for the direction of our venture.I recognized our destination, easily enough. It was the home of a close friend of hers, one that we had included a number of times in our sexual play. He lived a little off the beaten path, his house somewhat secluded. It was, as I was to discover, perfect for her needs, especially since we had it all to ourselves on this particular night.We parked, and I was led up the walk, and through the house, to the back yard. My heart was pounding in my chest as she led me on my leash, my unfettered cunt already wet with desire as I reminded myself to breathe. Kay was silent, not saying a word, simply giving my leash a playful tug from time to time, chuckling when she happened to glance back at me. Obviously, the look on my face must have been priceless. It was hard not to watch her ass as she walked ahead of me, her 3 inch heels adding an almost hypnotic swing in the soft light provided by the nearby redwood deck. It was nearly 10pm, early by my standards, but late enough that the air was cool as it brushed against my thighs.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32