Saturday, May 10, 2014

SHORT STORY: Part VI In The Beginning...

In The Beginning...
PART VI
©Mimi Wolske, March-April 2014
All Rights Reserved

"They told me your real name," Renardo Gumbo shouts from about twenty paces behind me.

Unable to think of anything else to say and not yet ready to admit who I am, I shout over my shoulder, "You need a shave." I lead them away from the bright lights and forward to some nameless city filled with a race of souls that have quit their bodies; away from the Reptilians and Greys and everything they represent.

Before us lies a painted scene, not picturesque but a growing ruin by destructive artists in the sky that are preparing for the artistic climax. No living human will paint this historic scene shown by soft moonlight with vaporous nimbus clouds hovering over fallen cities. I wonder if they'll record the decadence and the ferocity of this day that is driven by reptiles and beings with large, intense, black eyes. Or will the new artists show the ruins in a murky moonlight with emaciated priest-like beings and reptiles in their ornate armor in the cursed upper air with a primitive-like human standing in the pillars with members of the elder Whites race.

"Gunn," he hollers, and runs to catch up with me.

I ignore the name. I refused to return with the other Whites to Sirona, but she knows this is where I belong. I once was called Gunn, or War, and I was always the first on any battlefield.

He passes and then turns to face me, and walks backwards with ease. He doesn't even bother to turn and check if there's anything on the ground that will trip him...like a couple of dead bodies a few feet away. I guess he trusts me to warn him. "Is it true? You're a valkyrie?"

"You're a valkyrie? " Kaarat asks. "Wow. I mean holy dying soldier wow! Imagine me traveling with a goddess. Hey, why aren't you up in some sort of special kingdom?"

I roll my eyes.

"Can you really transfer to other dimensions?" Ren asks.

Suddenly he appears. I know him and why he has come. Ragnarok is the White chosen by my mother, Sirona, to be my mate.

  
I should have known you would be here, on this final battlefield," Ragnarok thinks, and he glides toward us. Of course, everyone stops and stares. Ren swings around to face to face him.

I relinquish the deceased warrior I collected since I came to the top. They will prepare to become fighters with Ragnarok when he advances in the immense battle. Ragnarok, I turn my warrior collection over to you for you to escort yourself to Hall of Slain.

I'm not here to collect warrior souls, Gunn. I am here to escort you back to your mother and our people. We will be mated before I go to fight this final battle.

Ren steps between me and Ragnarok and says, "What's going on? Who is that, Morgan?"

"He has come to unify those warriors of earth with those from the sky," I say, unable to tell him that he is to be my mate. Schizbo! I think I'm going to have to tell Ren that he is the one I love and not this god.

In a voice filled with awe, Kaarat says, "That's Ragnarok, isn't it."

My head offers a quick, responsive jerk to confirm what I know she is thinking. "Look, there is a way to beat these aliens and survive. One of you must gain all the knowledge you can."

"I can do it," Ren offers without a thought.

"You don't know what you're saying," Kaarat complains. "You only want to impress Mor-Gunn."

She looks up at me, concern written in every line on her face. "Tell us the Catch 22."

I hesitate, but her question is fair...and wise. It's good to know the probable outcome before you go into any battle. "I can't linger here much longer. The battle has accelerated and already Loki, Freyr, and Odin have died."

Ragnarok nods. He's sensed the same deaths. Will you tell them what will happen to whomever acquires such knowledge?

I give him an affirmative nod and turn to Ren and Kaarat. "Any human gaining specific knowledge will go insane before they are able to document what they learn."

The Whites are on this planet to help the human beings survive, I want to add. Being half human, I certainly have a large stake in their survival. We came thousands of years ago to help this planet and any intelligent life that was found. I have been the first on the battlefields and among the first to collect the deceased since my existence.

"Is this the end? The doom of the gods?" Kaarat is more knowledgeable than Ren. She might just survive.

Tell them about the Reptilians who came to this planet shortly after we arrived. Ragnarok thinks.

What? And let them know that the Morning Star, the Great Deceiver, is real? Don't you think that would scare them?

It will make them stronger to know how we made them bipedal snakes when we learned they were using the human beings as a source of their needed nutrients.

Ragnarok, I can't tell them. I won't.

Shall I give you a reason? he threatened.


Instantly, he makes Cap appear. Ren, stunned, can't move.

Kaarat says, "What? Another human to protect or will he fight the Greys and the Reptilians with us?"

Why, Ragnarok?

Tell them and I will go back to Sirona and explain you are needed on the battlefield. I won't force you to marry me. I understand your thoughts, Gunn. But, don't tell them and I will take you without concern for your affection for that human man. You know I can."

"What's going on Morgan?" Cap asks.

Ren runs to him and forgets he's a man and hugs Cap. It's sort of like watching him hold that alien baby all over again.

"Cap!" he says and it almost sounds like adoration, like love, as if Cap is his father.

Again, I feel my love for Ren being tested. How much do I have to give so this human man can live? How much for all three of my friends to survive this battle? I let Ragarok know I agree. He leaves and I tell these three everything...well, everything about the Reptilians and the Greys that I think they should know.

Were all sitting around with only a small light Cap brought with him to give us any light. I say, "The rest of what there is to know, one of you has to learn yourself."

Cap looks solemn. "It's just what people have been quoting for centuries."

"What?" Ren asks.

"About the heavens being on fire and dissolving and the elements melting." He looks at each one of us. "God help us if the fate of this planet is in our hands."

"Mor-Gunn," Kaarat says, "Could this learning task be divided? I mean, what if each one of us learns about a third or what is needed to know? Couldn't we then put it into a computer and share it with the heads of military for this planet so we could fight and destroy these aliens?"

"That's a clever idea," Cap says, and compliments Kaarat before I can respond.

"I cannot stay with you much longer. Humans all over this planet are dying and so are the gods. It is past time that I must go and collect the ones who will join Ragnarok. I can only say Kaarat's idea is worth trying because what I failed to tell you all is that you all might die whether you have all the knowledge or not. I have no way of knowing or of protecting you. But, if you call me...if you would even just think my name, I promise to be with you instantly until the end."

Kaarat comes to me and hugs me. It's the only time she has been able to do this as I am sitting as she stands. Her mouth is close to my ear and she whispers for my ears only, "I just wanted to let you know you didn't kill my boyfriend. I think it was a Grey who murdered him."

I place my hand on her head and take her into my confidence and let my knowledge of life and history become hers. Why? Because I find her to be the most esoteric and advanced of all humans.



To Be Continued

Intellectual Property Rights: © 1999 – 2014 Mimi Wolske/Mona Arizona™. All rights reserved.

You may contact me concerning permissions via email. This copyright notice overrides, negates, and renders void any alleged copyright or license claimed by any pers on or entity, specifically including but not limited to any claim of right or license by any individual, group of individuals, companies and corporations, or web hosting service, except when I have transferred such rights with a signed writing that complies with the requirements for transferring the entire copyright as specified in Title 17 of the United States Code. This includes, but is not limited to, translation or other creation of derivative works, use in advertising or other publicity materials without prior authorization in writing, or any other non-private use that falls outside the fair use exception specified in Title 17 of the United States Code.

If you have any question about whether commercial use, publicity or advertising use, or republication in any form satisfies this notice, it probably does not. Violations of intellectual property rights will be dealt with swiftly using appropriate process of law, probably including a note to your mother telling her that you’re a thief.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

SHORT STORY: In The Beginning... Part V

In The Beginning...
PART V
©Mimi Wolske, March-April 2014
All Rights Reserved


I hear breathing and I don't realize it's mine until I lift my head and see the vaporous cloud rising. I exhale and a cold puff escapes from my open lips. I can't believe what I'm seeing in my hand. The latest weapon of destruction my two peoples have ever made in a joint effort.

Then I realize the vaporous cloud is coming from that weapon and not from me. I lower my hand and my eyes follow the angle of the blasted killer I'm holding.

Oh, no, no, no, no, nooooo.

Eyes open and staring at me with a blank expression, the human on his back has a hole in his forehead. His lips are parted slightly and they give the appearance of someone who was smiling and never knew what hit him. He fell backwards. I know that because one of his legs is bent at the knee and tucked awkwardly under his body. He's wearing a jacket of down...I can smell the feathers from where I stand. The hood of his jacket is caught between his neck and the ground. It's soaked red. Then I notice the dark pool.

Blood.

I move around him; studying him; studying the hole I put just above his nose. His hands are palm down on the dirt. A Glock from the twenty-first century lies under one.

I exhale and lift my head to look around.

I remember being angry at Sirona for trying to control my life and take Ren away from me. I remember thinking myself back to the top and onto land. No wonder I can see my breath. It's cold here even for me.

It's night and no one else is around. Well, except for about a thousand dead bodies on the ground. I exhale a long, beautiful vapor. It's not cold enough here yet to freeze it.

Holy schizbo! I couldn't have killed all of these humans. I like humans. I'm half human.

Then I sense her. A woman hiding behind the corner of the building across the road.

"It's okay," I call. "You're safe."

I barely have time to move, that how quickly she steps out, holds up her weapon, points it at me, and fires. It's one of those things they used to call an automatic and a round of bullets follows me to a pile of rubble.

I exhale. Civilization going to pieces. Fine!

Another round whizzes near my shoulder when I try to lift my head to see where she is. The temperatures in this town along the ice-free coast range from eighteen to forty-five degrees Fahrenheit across the seasons. It was probably around twenty degrees the night the war between the Reptilians and the Greys began. It wasn't much warmer tonight.

"You alien! You murdered him and now I'm going to murder you!"

Ahhh, the woman has a voice. I fire my weapon in the air above me...just to let her now I have a bit more power than she. I exhale. This isn't going to end well unless I just vanish.

"Hey, I am half human! Besides, we're the good guys!"

I should go back down and get Ren, but I'm sure the Whites are laying in wait for me to do just that. She's fired sixteen shots, there's only one left. Then I hear her put a new cartridge in the chamber. Schizbo!

"Hey, alien! This is your lucky day, you know?"

"How is that possible?"

"Because this is as close to hell as you're going to get while your alien heart is still BEA-TING!"

She unloads the entire clip, all 17 shots, and I can feel the heat of those bullets as they penetrate and break up the stone slab directly in front of me.

"Okay, okay," I yell. Jeezzz. "You're a hero. I get it.... Look. I promise not to kill you." I listen intently but I don't hear another clip being slid into the pistol's hand grip. She's out of ammunition. I don't sense she has any other weapons. I concentrate listening for any sounds of metal sliding against metal. Nothing.

I exhale.

"See those ships up there? They're the enemies for you and me. One wants us for food and the other just wants us dead."

Still no sounds of metal. Now all of my senses move to full alert.

"Look. I know you're out of ammunition. Just throw out your gun and you will be safe." At least from me.

Suddenly, there's a weight on my back and something hard hits me in the side of my head. I reach back and grab hold and then lean forward. She is dumped at my feet.

"I want justice!" she screams.

Schizbo! It's one of those little people Ren used to tell me about. I always laughed and said he was just making up stories. But, here she is, all four feet of her.

I rise and look down six feet to where she lies at me feet and I see the terror in her eyes. I smile and exhale.

~ ~ ~



I'm paralyzed as I round the corner with Kaarat, the little woman. I estimate thirty or so Reptilians are firing their weapons at around twice as many Greys who are just outside a small building that garages the vehicles for the people of this small, icy island.

"We're dead meat," Kaarat says.

Her voice sounds morphed; it's a fruity-rich, chocolatey voice. I suspect she is one of the true descendents of the original inhabitors of this planet and I wonder if my Whites ancestors mated with these humans when they made their pilgrimage here. It would make sense why the humans, after all these centuries, are taller. She did admit, as we searched for someplace safe to hide that also housed any communication source, that her shorter, stockier body is able to withstand not only severe coldness but also extreme heat.

I tell her in a hushed undertone to back up. "They haven't seen us yet. We'll have to go around them."

We find an empty market and step into it. She is walking on some glass showcases, which makes us almost equal in height, and she lifts her weapon and points it at me. 

Schizbo!

"Duck!" she screams and then lets loose with a round from some sort of rifle that just lets ammunition fly repeatedly.

I dive to the ground and roll to my back. The Grey is still coming at us. I show him my weapon. He smiles...sort of. But, he's never seen this one. I fire. Three times. He finally falls.

"Can't you just use that laser gun on all of them and zap them all to Helvete?"

I chuckle and think Yeah, when Helvete freezes over. Because we were definitely in the right place for that to happen. "No, they'd capture use before I could kill ten of them. And, trust me, you do not want to be captured by those devilish Reptilians."

I guess my mind was thinking of Ren simultaneously because he's walking toward me surrounded by four Whites.

I only have to think his name and I'm there, my arms wrapped around his neck, and I'm hugging him close to me. I never believed I'd say this, but he is one handsome human. I feel his heart hammers against my chest, then I realize it's mine. 


"You don't know how good it is to see you," I think so only the Whites can hear. "We need your help to escape the Reps and Greys."

"We are here to escort you back to your mother. She is allowing this human to be here so you two can say good-bye to each other."


To Be Continued


Intellectual Property Rights: © 1999 – 2014 Mimi Wolske/Mona Arizona™. All rights reserved.

You may contact me concerning permissions via email. This copyright notice overrides, negates, and renders void any alleged copyright or license claimed by any pers on or entity, specifically including but not limited to any claim of right or license by any individual, group of individuals, companies and corporations, or web hosting service, except when I have transferred such rights with a signed writing that complies with the requirements for transferring the entire copyright as specified in Title 17 of the United States Code. This includes, but is not limited to, translation or other creation of derivative works, use in advertising or other publicity materials without prior authorization in writing, or any other non-private use that falls outside the fair use exception specified in Title 17 of the United States Code.

If you have any question about whether commercial use, publicity or advertising use, or republication in any form satisfies this notice, it probably does not. Violations of intellectual property rights will be dealt with swiftly using appropriate process of law, probably including a note to your mother telling her that you’re a thief.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

POETRY - ROMANTIC: Their Promise

©Their Promise
Mimi Wolske, May 2014
All Rights Reserved


Five years before...had it really been
five years?
Yes,
he thought,
it had, and one side of
his mouth curved up.
Five years before
He would have protested,
laughingly
but still, he would never have
believed
this woman
could hold him in a spell
and he would willingly
be her slave...
to the point of risking
his
tranquility.
What hidden forces of lust and love
had brought about this result?
Were they secretly within him?
Willingly, he wanted to be cast,
bound head to foot, into
her
loving arms.
Now he dreaded the thought he wouldn't be
prudent, that he would act
foolishly—with folly. He no longer
belonged
to himself.
His love, his sex slave, with her
suppleness like a cat and
playful, honest disposition, had,
little by little, glided into every
fiber
of his body.
This woman had become as necessary to him as
eating and drinking...and breathing.

After arriving home from work and
having eaten his dinner, he excused
himself saying he was tired and
wanted to go to bed
at once.
After
dinner, she played her role, mentioned
she wasn't feeling well and
should go to bed early this night.
There was some concern
from her family and they
encouraged her to
seek
her bed.

The woman wanted to run up the stairs,
but not to arouse suspicion,
she only half ran and stumbled
over their dog in her hurry to
reach
her phone
in her private bedroom. She swiped away
beads of perspiration and fell upon
her bed almost giddy with excitement.
Anyone seeing her would have
thought
her drunk.
When her phone rang, all she wanted
was to run to him, gaze into his eyes,
and smile knowing he was just as anxious
to see
her.

They each removed their clothes and
crawled into bed desirous to hear
the words of love and lust and imagine
being in each other's embrace, and then
they
made love.
This languorous couple remained on their
phones for several hours talking of this
and that, neither willing to let go but
knowing
they must.
"I have to go," she sighed.
He whispered he was falling onto his knees
before her and taking her hands in his.
"Goodnight
Sexy Lady,"
he said, but didn't move. "Until the next time."
"No," she said with a heavy sigh. "Not
until next time. That's so indefinite."
"Then when? When will
you
be free?"
She believed she was looking him full in the face.
"The truth? I think I may never be free and
I have no more excuses and I cannot
think
of one."
"Then we must say this is farewell," he said.
"No! I can't do that!" she answered.
She pronounced each word in
terrified
despair.
Then she added, a bit more gently,
and without removing her hands from his...
She told him she loved only him.
"I
must go."
Then came a silence, a long silence,
that was finally broken by him.
"I had a dream and it
scared me.
Understand?"
"Yes," she answered and her heart sobbed.
"Yes," she said again, shuddering. Abruptly
she told him she was bending over his
face
smothering
him with kisses and bursting into sobs,
she said in disjointed sentences...
"I lack the strength to leave you when
you
talk like that.
It scares me. Tell me we shall see
one another still. Give me courage. Give
me assurances. You have need of me still,
Don't
you?
One of these days...please say it and mean it."
"I don't want you to leave, but if you stay,
you know we won't be able to keep our
hands
to ourselves."

She pulled her shaking hands from his
and wrung them afraid to say anything,
afraid not to say something. She couldn't
give
him up.
She'd perish without him and his love.
He didn't want to lose her. He hadn't loved
anyone like her and he knew the pain in his
chest
was heartache.
"Sweetheart," he said, and he hadn't called her
anything endearing in a while and he
hoped she knew he meant it. The
prudent
instincts
of the man awakened and he said,
"Nothing has changed." He took her
in his arms, he told her, and was
kissing
her face.
"This hurts," she sobbed. "I don't know
if I'll be able to last longer than
tomorrow morning without
seeing
you."
"Then I will be here because I
need to see you, too."

Before they closed their eyes, the man
pulled the woman into his embrace and 
whispered, "You belong to me. Never forget
You
Are Mine."
They fell asleep holding their phones
to their ears and listening to and
saying the same words they always said.
Nothing
changed.


Intellectual Property Rights: © 1999 – 2014 Mimi Wolske/Mona Arizona™. All rights reserved.

You may contact me concerning permissions via email. This copyright notice overrides, negates, and renders void any alleged copyright or license claimed by any pers on or entity, specifically including but not limited to any claim of right or license by any individual, group of individuals, companies and corporations, or web hosting service, except when I have transferred such rights with a signed writing that complies with the requirements for transferring the entire copyright as specified in Title 17 of the United States Code. This includes, but is not limited to, translation or other creation of derivative works, use in advertising or other publicity materials without prior authorization in writing, or any other non-private use that falls outside the fair use exception specified in Title 17 of the United States Code.

If you have any question about whether commercial use, publicity or advertising use, or republication in any form satisfies this notice, it probably does not. Violations of intellectual property rights will be dealt with swiftly using appropriate process of law, probably including a note to your mother telling her that you’re a thief.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

POETRY - EROTIC: THIS IS HOW IT BEGINS

©This Is How It Begins
Mona Arizona, May 2014
All Rights Reserved
  


He invites me to Vegas
After spending hours and weeks
of talking cunnilingus,
domination, and mystiques.

In the hotel lobby, he's caught
my eye with his smile and that
intriguing bulge I'd been taught
deserves a gentle, loving pat.

In our room, he says, "Hey, sexy
Lady, strip for me." He sat.
Not giving him an apoplexy,
I dance like an acrobat.

Before his chair and I strip
away, teasing without care.
As I near him, my legs he does grip,
Then reaches up to grab my hair.

I back away and shake my head.
"Keep your hands to yourself, Hon."
A wicked smile; he grips instead,
and says, "Isn't this more fun?"

He backs me to the bed; he grins
and pushes me onto my back,
Takes off his clothes, and then he pins
me and says, "I want a snack."

He falls to his knees and pulls my
legs up over his shoulders.
He is going to make me cry
his name; but my voice offers purrs.

Tan and pale skins juxtaposed,
Mine against his this close;
His small hips are exposed—
I can almost feel his nose.

Hidden away in many folds,
My vulva is screaming
For release as he beholds
my desire. "Am I dreaming?"

He asks, and then makes his plunge
To the depths of desire
As if lust he could expunge.
Then his tongue travels higher.

Stiff'ning in its hiding place,
My clitoris trembles
As his flat tongue finds a space
To delve...instead he gobbles.

I buck like a colt being
Ridden for the first time;
He begins subjugating
And I begin to climb.

The fountain is on display.
I cry out, "Oh my God!"
He says, "Oh, Babe, soak away!
Maybe I should applaud."

I laugh while stars explode.
Mobile lips find my mouth,
Devour breath and goad
Me to head down south

Of the bed on my own
And enjoy the pleasures
sucking down to the bone;
I plunder his treasures.

Such power to extend,
Suddenly stirs between my teeth,
continues to distend...
My mouth is its sheath

Where it hides as if it's
Doubtful; then with a violent
Jerk, as if with fits,
Assured it's not bent,

It expands with quick great
leaps, it rises, it flushes,
Rushes as if to mate
In its full length with blushes

Of eight inches in length
And three inches thick;
A royal column of strength.
Before it rushes into the slick,

I take it in both hands,
Test with a manual squeeze,
Admire how it stands
As I twist the knob to please,

Twirl it bottom to top,
Give it long, adoring strokes,
Open my mouth, pop
it in; my mouth cloaks

It and satisfied,
I begin to suck and blow.
When he stirs, I glide
up, let saliva flow.

I look up; our eyes meet.
I whisper, "Do you like?"
He nods; says, "It's so sweet,
but not too ladylike."

Saliva on my face
Is not like a lady.
So it's not commonplace;
My lover is greedy.

He wants it all in me.
I smile and take it all.
He groans unbelievably;
His eyes roll...he's enthrall.

The glass shower's as large
as most bathrooms. He pulls
me there, proceeds to recharge,
Grasps my breasts in handfuls.

The glass wall at my back,
He holds my hands over
My head...plans his attack.
His look makes me quiver.

As my legs grip his hips,
He plunges to the hilt,
Devours my lips.
I come once and I wilt.

Without a moment's rest,
He leads me to the marble
Counter. I protest,
But he gets me to warble

As passion increases.
We heat up the cold stone;
He never ceases
And I'm totally blown.

The chair by the window
Is his next place of choice.
"We'll put on a show."
"I'll send them an invoice,"

He laughs, has me straddle
His divine person... I impale.
I need a saddle...
Reverse cowgirl he doesn't curtail.

The warmth of his belly
Beneath my fingers as
They rest there don't belie
All his adorable jazz.

The globes of my bottom
Assess pole and both limbs. It's
heaven caressing his column.
His hands explore my tits,

Mould and try to reshape;
They pinch and pull and I cry
Out. I can't escape
No matter how much I try.

Unable to bear more,
He takes me to the bed,
I'm prone...it's amour...
It's his favorite—I'm spread,

Offering myself to him.
He plunges in deeply,
Fills me with all his vim,
And groans, "You belong to me!"

Just to prove what he states
Is true, his teeth sink
Into my neck, he advocates
that vow with a kiss and a wink.

So I press on that spot
where groin joins with cock,
Slip a finger in—I almost forgot—
His juices begin to unlock...

His ring convulses around
my finger as waves
of immeasurable pleasures abound...
my finger misbehaves.

He melts into what he feels
and rhythmically plunges
deeper in me and steals
my breath; my finger lunges.

Suddenly into me,
Rich and thick, his seed
spurts in small jets. He
laughs and smiles; he's done his deed.

This is how it begins
and continues still.
We embrace and our skins
meet...our love to fulfill.



Intellectual Property Rights: © 1999 – 2014 Mimi Wolske/Mona Arizona™. All rights reserved.

You may contact me concerning permissions via email. This copyright notice overrides, negates, and renders void any alleged copyright or license claimed by any pers on or entity, specifically including but not limited to any claim of right or license by any individual, group of individuals, companies and corporations, or web hosting service, except when I have transferred such rights with a signed writing that complies with the requirements for transferring the entire copyright as specified in Title 17 of the United States Code. This includes, but is not limited to, translation or other creation of derivative works, use in advertising or other publicity materials without prior authorization in writing, or any other non-private use that falls outside the fair use exception specified in Title 17 of the United States Code.

If you have any question about whether commercial use, publicity or advertising use, or republication in any form satisfies this notice, it probably does not. Violations of intellectual property rights will be dealt with swiftly using appropriate process of law, probably including a note to your mother telling her that you’re a thief.