I move my lips to answer, but no sound comes. I wonder sometimes if I have lost something in an integration of me into a larger whole. I wonder if I’m ok with that. I don’t have an answer.

There was a time, in the beginning, when there was definite separation. There was a thick wall. Over time, that wall crumbled and eventually fell. There were many reasons for that, some rather complicated, some more mundane and straightforward.

I think there has been a transfer of freedom to speak, from the one hand to the other. Strangely though, like energy in a chemical reaction, not all of that freedom got transferred – some of it escaped into the ether I guess. I wonder if it really is utterly lost, or if it just hasn’t arrived at its destination yet.

Today is UDoJ’s third blogoversary. Things are so different now than they were then. I have changed, my country has changed, the world has changed.

I don’t know if I’ll ever write here again, or if undertones of my voice will emerge in The Boy‘s. I don’t have answers, but I’m smiling warmly that the anniversary of my birth has not passed unnoticed.

Just so y’know, I’m sitting right next to GrrlScientist. I think I wore Greg Laden out, and he needs a little rest.

You should be jealous.

After piecing together a desktop from scavenged parts, much frustration, much swearing, a lesson in customer service to the Microsoft people, more swearing, driver issues, network issues, internet connection issues, more swearing, a threat or two and just a bit more swearing, I have rescued The Lilith Quotient from the depths of the hard drive grave.

I couldn’t have done it without help from our friends from Philly, Diana and Biancs, but I have it.

Now I’m copying a ton of other files, but the novel is safely recovered. I need a drink.

I dunno, maybe I’ll just pick a different (free) theme.

Second on the list is an attempt to resurrect the desktop. The Lilith Quotient is on there. I have to have that back. (Yes, I am teh sux for backing up.)

Third, there should be some mud wrestling. Unfortunately, it’s a little chilly (64) and not too muddy. Guess we’ll go shopping instead.

Ok, this is getting long enough that I’m going to have to break it into chapters.-jb

Carolina del Norte wasn’t such a bad place. If one had to be a prisoner in a foreign kingdom, there were certainly worse kingdoms out there, with much worse rulers. I was free to wander as I chose, within the realm and under guard of course, but free to come and go as I pleased. My only other real restriction was that I was required to appear before him when summoned for whatever reason, at any time of day or night. He didn’t call often during the day, so that was a minor inconvenience for the most part. I slept in his bed, so I didn’t have far to go when he called in the night.

Still, it wasn’t home. No matter how well he treated me, no matter how well he fucked me, I was still a prisoner in the end. Long nights of physical pleasure would never fill the hole drilled in my heart by the memories of my frozen homeland. I was born to rule the hinterland, not the warm shores of the land by the sea.

I was out in the rolling hills of the countryside on the day I heard the news about my father. Having decided to bathe in the fresh, clear water of Lake Destiny, I had dismounted my horse, and was just contemplating whether I could swim to the far shore faster than my guards’ horses could race around when they first noticed the messenger at a full gallop coming over a distant hill.

“I suppose that is a summons to appear at court,” I intoned. “Your liege will just have to wait this day until I’ve finished bathing.” I paused and gave my watchers the customary icy stare, waiting futilely for a moment for them to turn their heads. They were new to my detail, but had apparently been forewarned about me. They stared back, unconcerned with my belligerence. They were definitely better prepared than my last detail was on their first day.

(Continued below the fold)

“Then be jealous of your master’s plaything.” I began to strip without grace or shame, intending to stand for a moment to let them have their eyes full, when the captain of the guard removed her helmet and barked at her male companions. A woman! Well, this was a first. I had never gotten the impression that the Baron thought much of women. He even denied me my own battle raiment, allowing me only the gowns and trappings of a useless doll at a royal court.

“Avert your eyes, swine! She is a royal prisoner of the Baron, not a common dog for your entertainment!” One of them began to protest, but she would have none of it. He was picking himself from the ground and reaching for the reins of his horse before his protest was barely begun.

“Thank you, Captain, but it was unnecessary. I’m really quite used to it by now.”

“Nevertheless, while I am assigned to you, you shall be properly respected. If my liege is unhappy with that, he can find a new Captain of this detail. And thank you, Your Highness, for addressing me by my rank.”

“It is a rank you have no doubt earned, Captain. A thing all too rare in this kingdom for a woman to be allowed to earn anything. I could not do otherwise.”

Her voice picked up an edge. “I have been allowed nothing. I fought twice as hard and twice as long for this badge as any man in this kingdom would be required. I did indeed earn my title.” As quickly as it came, the harsh tone disappeared as she checked herself. “Your time for bathing does grow short m’lady. The rider will be here within the quarter hour. If you would be so kind as to be about tending to that, I would appreciate not having to incur any more of the wrath of my liege.”

I felt a bit of a smile come to my lips at this unexpected decency, and decided I would not repay her graciousness with an escape attempt. I stripped where I stood, dropping the doll gown to the ground unceremoniously about my feet, and allowing the Captain the perusal she had denied her troops. After a moment, I turned and strode into the lake, and went about my bathing. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the view of two knights of the realm being forced to turn their horses ’round away from me, while the Captain faced me from just beyond, the reins of my horse across her lap, her eyes never leaving my self-ministrations.

Without ever turning away her eyes, I watched her give orders to one of the knights, who promptly rode off in the direction of the approaching messenger.

I finished my bath, and waded out to the water’s edge. In a moment of whimsy, I turned back to the center of the lake, and bent over for one last scoop of water to rinse my face. It was the least I could do for the Captain who had shown me such respect and kindness. I hoped she would take the gesture in the spirit in which it was intended.

As I stood and turned back to my guards, the Captain’s face told me quite subtly, but unmistakably, that she had. I was rather pleased with that, and not a little warm, suddenly. As I approached, she walked her horse and mine around the remaining guard, and pulled from her saddlebag a large, luxurious towel which she leaned down to hand to me. As I took it from her, she put her lips close to my ear and whispered, “Were I more than but a Captain of the Guard, m’lady…” and then straightened herself back in her saddle.

The flush that ran through my body at her words found every crack and crevice in me. I had no verbal reply for her, and could only offer a reciprocating smile. Were I home, her rank would have mattered not one whit.

I finished drying and dressing shortly before the guard dispatched to meet the messenger returned. He obviously had news of some import, as he rode right up to the Captain and spoke to her animatedly but quietly.

“Highness, we must dash for the castle grounds. News comes that your father is gravely ill, and time is of the essence. I make no promises, but if you will trust me, do exactly as I say, I will urge the Baron to allow you to return to your home to see him.”

I had no time for the usual gentility expected of me. I had no patience for the dress I threw back to the ground or the pretty side saddle I left lying by the dress. My bare thighs met the bare mare, and me in naught but a corset, my ride in naught but her shoes, we bolted for all she was worth back toward the castle. The Captain rode beside, and one guard well behind. The other had been thrown when he dug his spurs into his mount, and he was left lying beside my clothes and my riding tack.

It had been months since I had been riding this way, bareback and free, since before the invasion of our land, before my capture. My fingers were knotted in the mane of this beast, this horse who ran like smooth fury, graceful and obedient. She matched me perfectly in her stride and her rhythm. I would keep this one.

I fully intended to pass the castle by, leaving this land behind. I had no wish to trouble the Captain, but I was not about to stand around waiting for her to plead my case before the Baron. I was going home, and I couldn’t care less about his stupid little war or his stupid little kingdom. The Captain kept pace beside me as I waited for the last possible moment to veer onto the road that led from this kingdom toward my own. I gave no indication of my intention to escape, no warning to the Captain.

Nevertheless, she was not an idiot. The instant my thighs gave the horse its wayward command, I was yanked by the hair of my head so suddenly that I lost my seat, and found myself tumbling and sprawling across the ground. I heard the sickening snap of my leg before I felt the bone break. I remember the rock speeding uncontrollably toward my face just before the world went instantly black.

(To be continued)

From whence came the art:

That image is titled Knight Horse and Sword, by h.koppdelaney, and is licensed by the artist under the Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 2.0 license.

Her story started out as a short tale, but has been growing uncontrollably.

Apologies for the delay. Sometimes, the stories do what they please and there’s not much I can do about it.

A dozen of your favorite New York City sex bloggers and sex educators are joining together to support Sex Work Awareness, a non-profit whose mission statement says it all:

We believe that all sex workers have a right to self-determination; to choose how we make a living and what we do with our bodies.

We aim to empower our diverse community by building the capacity of sex worker-serving and sex worker member-based institutions as well as the skills and resources of sex workers themselves.

We also conduct research about sex workers and the sex industry in order to better understand it, develop public education initiatives, and advocate for the rights of sex workers.

The theme is burlesque. The poses will be sexy. And who will be posing? Take a look, below the fold!

• Audacia Ray
• Desiree
• Diva
• Elizabeth Wood
• Jamye Waxman
• Lux Alptraum
• Mariella
• Rachel Kramer Bussel
• Riese
• Sinclair Sexsmith
• Tess Danesi
• Twanna A Hines

Our photographer is Stacie Joy, whose specialty is burlesque and New York nightlife. Sinclair and John will be our graphic designers working together to make this project a smashing success. And um, yes, that’s me listed there. Surprised? Good!

Follow us in this effort at:

• http://sexbloggercalendar.wordpress.com/
• http://twitter.com/NYCSexBlogCal

Please support us in this effort by buying a calendar. If you are truly an enthusiast and a supporter of sex worker self-determination, though, Tess, aka Urban Gypsy, our intrepid and incredibly talented organizer has arranged more. You can, if your heart desires, buy a day on the calendar for a mere $30 dollars. You will get 80 characters with which to greet your favorite blogger, express your undying love to a partner, declare your New Year’s resolution, or simply say hello. (But that offer ends soon: October 1, given that the calendar needs to be ready well before the end of the year! Click here for more info.)

Sponsors and other supporters include: Edenfantasys, Njoy, Sliquid, Vergenza, The Slipper Room, FreeFoods NYC, Good Vibrations, Always Aroused Girl, Catalina, John, Calico, JustinCase and I’m sure there are others that I have yet to learn about!

PS: I just read over at Tess’s Urban Gypsy that 7 days have been given to AAG and 7 to Catalina, and that if you go visit their blogs you can enter a contest to win a day!

(Cross-posted in its entirety from Sex in the Public Square)

“You’ll have to be more specific, Steph. ‘Danger’ doesn’t really help me here.” I wanted to give her the best experience I could, really show off the system, but her reticence was beginning to wear on me.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Crap. I really like Steph, but sometimes she’s a huge pain in my ass. I still had to get Rystefn’s holo done, and that project was taking forever, what with the little free time I had to work on it, and with his um.. needs.

“Steph, it’d just be a lot easier for me, and a lot better for you in the end, if you were just frank. You can go anywhere, do anything, be anyone, if you just tell me what to program…”

“Wait. I can be anyone?”

“Sure, why not? I mean, I can’t make you six feet tall without a ton of work, but the computer can do some minor body adjustments. Want to be blonde? Black hair? 18 years old? Whatever. That stuff’s pretty easy to do.”

“Black hair. I want black hair and forever young. Like a vampire.”

“ah, see now we’re getting somewhere. A vampire I can do. What else?”

“Could you do a little something about..”

I smiled. “Sure Steph. Our little secret. Should be ready by Friday, how’s that? Then you’ll have the whole weekend.”

Steph smiled that all too rare big grin of hers. “See you Friday!”

I called Kate. This was going to be good.

(Story continues below the fold)

“Look, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but it’s not like you’re cheating if you do, Steph. Think of it as a really complicated vibrator.”

“I don’t know. I should ask Ben what he thinks first.”

“Ben’s off having a great time with Kate.” Oops. That might have been the perfectly wrong thing to say under the circumstances. “I didn’t mean it that way, Steph. Ben wanted you to have a great time for your birthday, right? What could be better than a little strange?”

Steph frowned a little. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Ben or anything. It was more that she didn’t really trust Kate. Well, not knowing her as well as she knew me, I could understand, but Kate wouldn’t be doing anything with Ben that she wouldn’t do with Steph standing right there. Not that that was a lot of consolation when it came to Kate…

“Steph, if you can trust me, you can trust Kate. She gave her word not to lay a hand on him, ok? It’s your birthday, just relax and enjoy the ride. It’ll be better than Star Trek, I promise. And Steph, what happens in the holochamber, stays in the holochamber. If you’ll forget I’m watching, I’ll forget I’m seeing. I’m only there for safety reasons. You remember the safeword?”

“Yeah, I remember. But I’m not – “

“Just relax.” I walked her inside the plain black room. “Remember, the lights will go out for a second, and then the computer will bring up the sim. Have fun with it, ok?”

“Ok.”

I stepped back out and closed the door behind me, shaking my head all the way to the control booth. “Danger? I got danger for you…” I muttered to myself.

I sat in the co-pilot’s seat and mic’d up. “Can you hear me alright?”

“Yep.”

“Ok, here go the lights. Enjoy.” I cut the lights and gave it a few extra moments to let her eyes adjust to the darkness while I got everything ready. I smiled to myself, and gave her just another few moments to increase the impression. She was going to love this.

“Ok, here we go…”

It was nighttime in the sim. I had tweaked the full moon a bit for size and brightness, exaggerating it for a little extra impact. It had the intended effect. Steph’s breath caught audibly.

I had dropped her in a fallow field some distance from the little village I had created. She took a few minutes to bend down and feel the weeds, and she was obvious in her awe. “Holy shit.”

“See, I told you it was awesome. Ok, this is the last you’ll hear from me unless you need me.” She started walking toward the village. “Uh, ok, just one more thing. You’re a vampire, remember? You can fly. Just jump and go.”

With that, Steph finally got around to checking herself out. She first touched her teeth. I grinned as she realized just how sharp they were, pulling her hand back quickly. She’d even drawn a little real blood. She pulled some of her long black hair around to check it out, and gave it a little yank. Yeah Steph, it really does hurt when you do that. I chuckled to myself.

Then she made me giggle, and I was glad I’d cut the mic off. Watching her standing in a field in the middle of the night, trying to check out her own ass, was pretty comical. Of course, even if I’d have given her a mirror, it wouldn’t have done her any good. I could almost see the gears going in her head as she was wondering just that.

Finally, she gave the flying thing a go. The computer really did all the work, and it wasn’t like she’d have to really learn to fly. She made a sort of jumping motion, and the computer obediently lowered the sim around her, giving the perfect illusion of flying, from her point of view.

Naturally, she could have flown in any position she wanted, including standing straight up, and the computer wouldn’t have cared one little bit, but as people have the Superman position ingrained in them as the proper attitude for flight, that’s the position she took. I got another giggle when I peeked up the miniskirt I’d dressed her in. I um… forgot… to put panties on her. heh, I wondered how long it would take her to notice.

Some days, I really crack myself up.

It wasn’t long before she reached the imaginary village, not a hair out of place of course despite the wind effect. In a virtual world, you can always look your best, y’know.

Steph did a big loop of the village, just kind of checking things out. Damn, none of the stupid pretend villagers were noticing her. What kind of vampire experience would she have without striking fear into the hearts of her prey? I tweaked a few lines of code, and a buxom young blonde suddenly pointed to the sky and began to scream. I shook my head when Steph looked over her shoulder to see what the girl was screaming about.

She got the idea quickly enough, and decided to go with the flow. She put on her best scary face and dive bombed for the ground, hands in the stereotypical claw posture. I double checked the code to make sure she wouldn’t face plant.

At first Steph was content to just fly around and scare the hell out of the villagers. Then she began to really get into it. She chased them, laughing. She’d fly right up behind them as they ran, just slow enough to allow them to escape. When they’d reach the door to their hovel, she’d let them go in, and then find another to chase. As the number of villagers on the street dwindled, I’d kick a few out of their homes, and send them down the street again, giving her some more sport.

After a bit, she seemed to be getting a little bored with the game. With all good vampire stories though, there’s a vampire slayer. I figured it was about time for him to show, and gave him his cue.

A strong and handsome young man, tall and bearded, stepped out of the shadows just as Steph flew by. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking hard and spinning her in midair as her body’s momentum carried her past.

“Ow, that had to hurt.”

“She’s fine.”

Steph landed in a heap in the dirt as her raven locks slid through the Hero’s fingers.

“Hey, you fucking jerk! That hurt!”

“Get up, bitch. You’re days are done here.”

She picked herself up and scowled at him.

“I’m a fucking vampire, douchebag. I’ll bite your dumb ass.” She was rubbing her head where he’d gotten ahold of it. Oops, looked like she had parted with a few of those locks.

The Hero chuckled scornfully. “Unlikely, wench.”

She hesitated a moment, unsure of herself. It was her first time, after all. Regaining her composure, and perhaps remembering that this was her simulation, her face turned from one of pain to one of anger. She was going to kick this arrogant bastard’s ass.

She strode right up to him and gave him a good shove. He barely budged. Laughing at her, he bared his fangs. I watched her blood run cold.

In a flash, his hand was at her throat, and he picked her up effortlessly and drew her to him. Eyeball to eyeball, they stared at each other as her face changed yet again from one of fear to one of confident defiance. She kneed him in the groin and he cried out in pain as he dropped her to the ground.

Steph was completely lost in the moment by then, and delivered a backhand that hurt me as I watched. He was on his knees, still holding his crotch. “Really? That’s all you got?” she mocked. He grabbed her ankle and pulled hard, landing her on her back. He was on her in a second. She stuck her thumb in his eye. She rolled him over, and he flipped her onto her back.

The two of them rolled in the dirt, fighting and clawing, kicking and slapping and punching until there was little more than a tangle of arms and legs flailing about on the ground. They were on their feet, and then across the road. They crashed in a pile through a door and then another. Steph was apparently having the time of her life.

And then suddenly, they weren’t fighting anymore. What was a knock-down-drag-out slugfest had somewhere along the line morphed into a knock-down-drag-out passion fest. Clothing was rent. Furniture was broken. Villagers were stupified. I was amused.

There was broken glass and droplets of blood, howling and biting, kicking and kissing, and eventually there was screaming and fucking.

For once, I was the one amazed. Who knew that the human body could do that? Oh, wow, that looked interesting! Out loud, I wondered, “Did she just…?”

“Yeah. I think she did. Should we tell them?”

“Nah, they’ve got all weekend. Let ‘em think they’re cheating on each other. We’ll tell them when they come out Sunday night.”

“Good call. Let’s just watch them fuck.”

“Y’know Kate, we could be villagers for a while.”

“I love the way you think, Janie. Let’s go.”

From whence came the art:

That image is titled Gothic by OctaviS, and is licensed by the artist under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 license.