3d
i confessed my sins, and look where it brought us
after years in the catholic church
spines ramrod straight and hands clasped in prayer
your sworn chastity after we lost the love of our life
clench your jaw shut, voice and empty void of intimacy
sunlight, fractured through the kaleidoscope of stained glass
dusty windows, dusty air filled with the thick scent
of lilies from the morning service.
you always did like the evenings
but you love our after hours, more.
my attention wanders
the priest's empty sermon is full of sh..
resisting temptation ? those words echo
mockingly in my ears.
how lovely !
i wore the satin dress you love
the one i shouldn't wear in public
because it barely meets the church's requirements
but you'd do anything to see the silhouette of my body
the muted lavender draping over my frame like water
ever attuned to me, your gaze falters
your eyes meet mine in gentle inquiry.
'i have a weird fixation with that dress...'
the satin was so gorgeously draped on me
'i want to own her..'
the soft light caught the curve of my neck
my head bowed in mindless prayer
it stirs a disquieting warmth within your *****
a sensation wholly inappropriate for your daughter
'forget about it, forget about it, forget about...'
shake the feeling
let it flee from your mind
but you can't help the urge to pull me into your lap
just to... feel me in your space.
if she couldn't be a part of him, he'd settle for her being on top.
his attention has always conjured a different feeling in me
i had to have been misinterpreting it,
but was i really ?
the way he caressed my hips and thighs when he could,
whispering sweet nothings in my ear
these thoughts, these sinful
sinful
thoughts..
they can't be one sided !
can they ?
the focus on faith
always had me feeling
as if we lacked emotional intimacy.
so my mind
sought it in other areas.
the drive home was quiet
with the prospect of our self-conducted confessional
looming over her in the NSX-R
as a judgement of my own actions.
i dreaded what was to come.
i know you notice my silence
i hear your hands clench the leather
your eyes flickering towards me,
my frame against the blurred cityscape
'what could she possibly be stressing over ?'
our home, modest, but meticulously kept
i hear you move with the usual quiet efficiency
i trail, i trail, i trail
unease burgeoning with every fleeting moment
the low clinks of cutlery do nothing to soothe my frayed nerves.
"so pretty..."
'did i say that out loud ?'
yes, daddy, you did !
but my eyes are still glazed,
focused on nothing
you can't help it
the way my dress hung so elegantly on my pale body
my defined collarbone, and slim neck
just begging you
to pepper heated kissed to show 'affection'
you tell yourself
it's just a father's pride in her mother's beauty
but the treacherous voice
keeps telling you
it's something more. something dangerous.
you tell me i seem troubled
and you ask me what is wrong
your tone is laced with something slightly foreboding
"i have something i should tell you."
my cheeks flush. "don't worry. nothing's wrong, daddy. it's about me."
...
he sat closely beside me on the sofa,
taking my delicate hand in his.
he adores my slim features,
my pale skin
that he wanted to blemish so badly.
his touch, usually a source of reassurance,
now sent a confusing shiver through me.
his hands, strong and capable,
were one of the features i often found myself fixating on
during my forbidden twilight thoughts.
his demeanor was curious,
and he couldn’t help but imagine what i had to say.
“i’m listening, angel,”
he prompted,
his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.
i finally met his eyes,
my own filled with a mixture
of shame and a desperate need for…
something i couldn’t quite articulate.
validation, maybe ?
the gaze you returned
was uncomfortable,
but i couldn’t look away.
“please, daddy–
don’t make me confess my sins.”
after years in the catholic church
spines ramrod straight and hands clasped in prayer
your sworn chastity after we lost the love of our life
clench your jaw shut, voice and empty void of intimacy
sunlight, fractured through the kaleidoscope of stained glass
dusty windows, dusty air filled with the thick scent
of lilies from the morning service.
you always did like the evenings
but you love our after hours, more.
my attention wanders
the priest's empty sermon is full of sh..
resisting temptation ? those words echo
mockingly in my ears.
how lovely !
i wore the satin dress you love
the one i shouldn't wear in public
because it barely meets the church's requirements
but you'd do anything to see the silhouette of my body
the muted lavender draping over my frame like water
ever attuned to me, your gaze falters
your eyes meet mine in gentle inquiry.
'i have a weird fixation with that dress...'
the satin was so gorgeously draped on me
'i want to own her..'
the soft light caught the curve of my neck
my head bowed in mindless prayer
it stirs a disquieting warmth within your *****
a sensation wholly inappropriate for your daughter
'forget about it, forget about it, forget about...'
shake the feeling
let it flee from your mind
but you can't help the urge to pull me into your lap
just to... feel me in your space.
if she couldn't be a part of him, he'd settle for her being on top.
his attention has always conjured a different feeling in me
i had to have been misinterpreting it,
but was i really ?
the way he caressed my hips and thighs when he could,
whispering sweet nothings in my ear
these thoughts, these sinful
sinful
thoughts..
they can't be one sided !
can they ?
the focus on faith
always had me feeling
as if we lacked emotional intimacy.
so my mind
sought it in other areas.
the drive home was quiet
with the prospect of our self-conducted confessional
looming over her in the NSX-R
as a judgement of my own actions.
i dreaded what was to come.
i know you notice my silence
i hear your hands clench the leather
your eyes flickering towards me,
my frame against the blurred cityscape
'what could she possibly be stressing over ?'
our home, modest, but meticulously kept
i hear you move with the usual quiet efficiency
i trail, i trail, i trail
unease burgeoning with every fleeting moment
the low clinks of cutlery do nothing to soothe my frayed nerves.
"so pretty..."
'did i say that out loud ?'
yes, daddy, you did !
but my eyes are still glazed,
focused on nothing
you can't help it
the way my dress hung so elegantly on my pale body
my defined collarbone, and slim neck
just begging you
to pepper heated kissed to show 'affection'
you tell yourself
it's just a father's pride in her mother's beauty
but the treacherous voice
keeps telling you
it's something more. something dangerous.
you tell me i seem troubled
and you ask me what is wrong
your tone is laced with something slightly foreboding
"i have something i should tell you."
my cheeks flush. "don't worry. nothing's wrong, daddy. it's about me."
...
he sat closely beside me on the sofa,
taking my delicate hand in his.
he adores my slim features,
my pale skin
that he wanted to blemish so badly.
his touch, usually a source of reassurance,
now sent a confusing shiver through me.
his hands, strong and capable,
were one of the features i often found myself fixating on
during my forbidden twilight thoughts.
his demeanor was curious,
and he couldn’t help but imagine what i had to say.
“i’m listening, angel,”
he prompted,
his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.
i finally met his eyes,
my own filled with a mixture
of shame and a desperate need for…
something i couldn’t quite articulate.
validation, maybe ?
the gaze you returned
was uncomfortable,
but i couldn’t look away.
“please, daddy–
don’t make me confess my sins.”
part one,
WHERE ANGELS FALL
piece : INSATIABLE
(this is my work, based on a coarse and heavy hearted narrative i wrote. based on true events ! ha.. haha...)
[it's also why the dude in my banner photo is sitting in the gothic cathedral. you're welcome for that visual.]
--- EXCERPT FROM : INSATIABLE
He knew he shouldn’t feed into these fantasies, no matter how much he wanted to. She wasn’t special. Merely just a teenage girl who had a pretty body. Of course he’d be attracted !
Yunho finally broke the silence, his voice low and husky. “Angel-ah… do you realize what you’ve done ?” His question was filled with slight venomous undertone, but along with his body language, softly shivering with frisson.
Angel looked at him, her eyes filled with tears and a strange, unsettling mixture of remorse and a perverse satisfaction. She had confessed her sins, laid bare the darkness within her. Now, she would have to face the consequences.
Yunho shifted in his seat, his frame radiating slight anger, although it was with himself. He looked away from her, eyes pacing slowly across the room, his hands running through his hair. “This… this is a grave sin, Angel,” he stated, his voice strained. “A sin against God, against yourself… against me, even.” His breathing faltered. His insatiable hunger was evident, matched only by his raging hard-on. He knew he had to remain faithful. Yunho mentally blamed this on the Devil. The Devil had to have poisoned their minds with these thoughts, and fantasies– and he’d put up with it no more.
Angel watched him, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what came next. The ritual of confession was always followed by punishment, a way to atone for their transgressions. For her, she knew, the penance would be physical.
Yunho sighed, and turned to face her, his eyes dark in primal senses. “You know the teachings, baby. You know that actions have consequences.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor. He stood, gesturing her over.“Come here, Angel.”
Her legs felt heavy as she walked towards him. He stood tall, his usual gentle demeanor replaced by a stern formality. He led her to his study, a small room lined with religious texts and photographs. He closed the door, the click of the latch echoing in the tense silence.
He sat on a stool in the corner of the room. Yunho patted his lap, expecting her to lie across him. “Here.” Angel obeyed, her torso pressing against his thighs. She lowered her head, her long dark hair falling forward, obscuring her face.
---
WHERE ANGELS FALL
piece : INSATIABLE
(this is my work, based on a coarse and heavy hearted narrative i wrote. based on true events ! ha.. haha...)
[it's also why the dude in my banner photo is sitting in the gothic cathedral. you're welcome for that visual.]
--- EXCERPT FROM : INSATIABLE
He knew he shouldn’t feed into these fantasies, no matter how much he wanted to. She wasn’t special. Merely just a teenage girl who had a pretty body. Of course he’d be attracted !
Yunho finally broke the silence, his voice low and husky. “Angel-ah… do you realize what you’ve done ?” His question was filled with slight venomous undertone, but along with his body language, softly shivering with frisson.
Angel looked at him, her eyes filled with tears and a strange, unsettling mixture of remorse and a perverse satisfaction. She had confessed her sins, laid bare the darkness within her. Now, she would have to face the consequences.
Yunho shifted in his seat, his frame radiating slight anger, although it was with himself. He looked away from her, eyes pacing slowly across the room, his hands running through his hair. “This… this is a grave sin, Angel,” he stated, his voice strained. “A sin against God, against yourself… against me, even.” His breathing faltered. His insatiable hunger was evident, matched only by his raging hard-on. He knew he had to remain faithful. Yunho mentally blamed this on the Devil. The Devil had to have poisoned their minds with these thoughts, and fantasies– and he’d put up with it no more.
Angel watched him, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what came next. The ritual of confession was always followed by punishment, a way to atone for their transgressions. For her, she knew, the penance would be physical.
Yunho sighed, and turned to face her, his eyes dark in primal senses. “You know the teachings, baby. You know that actions have consequences.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor. He stood, gesturing her over.“Come here, Angel.”
Her legs felt heavy as she walked towards him. He stood tall, his usual gentle demeanor replaced by a stern formality. He led her to his study, a small room lined with religious texts and photographs. He closed the door, the click of the latch echoing in the tense silence.
He sat on a stool in the corner of the room. Yunho patted his lap, expecting her to lie across him. “Here.” Angel obeyed, her torso pressing against his thighs. She lowered her head, her long dark hair falling forward, obscuring her face.
---
