Date: Sat, 24 Apr 2010 14:24:59 +0000 (GMT) From: brendan pickett <brendan_pickett@yahoo.co.uk> Subject: Goddess of Sexuality Episode 3 A Suitor Named Joel Schwarzenberg (A TG/TV tale.) The Goddess of Sexuality Episode 3: "A Suitor named Joel Schwarzenberger" Time moves differently on my home-star... here in the immortal heavens we exist in 3 more time-dimensions than you mortals who exist only in 1 time-dimension - (and of course we all exist in 3 extended spatial dimensions and 7 super-small rolled-up inverted dimensions.) Therefore us gods have a far superior knowledge of time, and are not tied to the lineality of living in just 1 of it's dimensions... we can move through it like humans move through air - backwards and forward, upwards and down... Past, present, the future - these things mean nothing to us... Our chronology is shaped like a Calabi-Yau Manifold... kinda like holomorphic super-mirror-symmetry... needless to say I haven't got the time to explain the physics of it to the likes of you... So why am I, Goddess of Sexuality, daughter of the God of Love, telling you this? Merely to give a brief explanation of what happens when I leave my Sissy-Maids & Angel Lovers and start a session of suitor testing... (my "work.") Well... after being dressed and styled by my now only 3 strong posse of former Wild-Boys & my 2 Angel Boys, I pass through a door in my Mother's Palace that takes me to the space-time location of the suitor whom I am to test... this door acts only as a symbol... the act of moving to the destination is accomplished by my god-powers... the door merely facilitates this... as when human's meditate on a flickering flame to help induce a step toward transcendentalism... It had been a long day of loving sexuality already... I'd done Walt Whitman, Giacomo Girolamo Casanova de Seingalt, Publius Ovidius Naso and an Arch-Angel named "Summer" - (talk about flowing juices I can tell you...) - So I was quite surprised when my Maids prepared my for the next session by adorning me in my Secretary-Look... I quizzed my Jamican Angel as he tied my hair back whilst flying above me: "But its not the end of the day yet... why am I in my writing gear?" (Because I always write my reports best when I'm in secretary clothes... hey, I'm wearing them as I type on my mythological typewriter...) Jamican Angel Boy Lover of Mine replied: "You're right... its not the end of the day yet..." - he finished tying my hair back and flew down to face me, continued: "This is the look you'll need for the next session... you'll see!" - And with that he gave me a quick kiss on my le4 cheek with his big gorgeous black lips... Two Sissies painted my nails whilst the other massaged my legs with pleasing lotion... I leaned my head back and my Caucasian Angel painted my lips moist golden red... then did my lashes... Jamaican Angel returned with my black patent 3 inch pumps... He places them upon my feet gently... my Sissy-Servicing is done... I arise... kiss all my troop individually... fingering flirtatiously... Pop-A-Tot... Pop-A-Tot! Then left them... And passed through the door... I was in an office... am the secretary behind a desk in the reception of some grey 1990s corporate building... people come and go... the phone rings and I direct the call to the appropriate person... time seems to slow to the absolute slowest it can possibly go... purgatory like boredom fully kicks in... but then I see a man approaching... and I know: It is Him... he is the suitor for this session... (for I am never actually told whom the suitor will be... my Instincts just tell me so...) A shy man... tall but with bent back - droops a liCle too much... does not stand tall... big glasses... side-parted brown hair... he timidly steps forward to the reception desk, mumbles nervously: "Um... Can I send a fax please?" I didn't hear him properly and say: "Sorry... could you say that again please, Sir?" "Could I use the fax-machine please Miss? I need to send a fax..." "Why yes of course...." - I take the piece of paper from his hand in a clean quick flick of my wrist - make eye contact with him... and with my other hand pressed gaily across my breasts, nails out-stretched, say: "Let me do it for you!" He mumbles a mostly inaudible `Thank you' and shuffles... looks down to floor and then back up to me... fiddles with his glasses... pushes them up to the top of his nose... where they just slide back down again... I ask him: "What's your name sweety?" "Joel Schwarzenberger..." "Well Joel... what number do you need me to send this fax to?" I stood up and leaned provactively over the fax-machine, waiting to tap the numbers in, protruding my buttocks at him... swaying them slightly... I turned my face to him as I kept my body's pose... he was stumbling through his pockets - fumbling whilst looking for a piece of paper with the number scrawled on it - unable to find it as his attention was obviously distracted by moi... I quip: "I'm ready!" He finds the bit of paper he needs... his hands tremble as he holds it... slowly reads out each number... I repeat the number a4er he says each one - but in the language spoken only by us gods... he doesn't notice that I'm doing this... hears the emotions of it... which stir him visibly... hears the music-seductivity of it... which I see in his eyes - which I see have a tremendous glow... the fax finishes its send-process and I hand him back the original... his eyes beam the joy of a plethora of Truly Visionary Poets... yet the rest of his demeanour remains unchanged -as though his body were locked in a cage seperated from his soul & true essence... he finds the courage within him to albeit rather hesitantly ask me this rather bland beginning chat-up line: "Are you... er... new... here?" "No... I'm just a Temp," I reply... untie my hair from its secretarially tightly tied-back position and let it fall gently with a bounce on to my shoulders... I start to twiddle with some of it and pout out: "I won't be here long..." - pause... lock into eye-contact with him, stare into his deep-blue soul for a second and also an eternity - then add: "Catch me while you can!" He smiles... and for the first time stands a little taller and truer to himself... a first step on the ladder... he breaks eye-contact for a moment but then returns to meet my pupil's gaze... he then looks down to the desk where my hands are resting palm-down on the surface... slowly he glides his left hand onto my right, says: "Thank you for sending that fax for me... I'm not very good with machines really..." - I tilt my head to an angle... turn my right hand over and take his left into my palm... give it a gentle squeeze-caress... Empathically sensing his thoughts I say softly: "Yes... you can ask me..." "Would you care to join me for dinner tonight a4er work... er..." - he stumbles to another hesitant pause... says the sound: "Umm..." I realise he pauses because he was going to say my name at the end of his question... but doesn't yet know my name... I tell him... he repeats his question appending my name to the end of it... I say joyfully and emphatically: "Why Yes!" "Where would you like to go?" I respond without thought - (as this testing and judging process requires one to see the living-quarters of the suitor as much as possible... it reveals much about the man): "Your Place... I love for a man to cook for me in his own home..." He's slightly shocked by the quickness-of-it-all... but inside him I see Sheer-Jubilation... He's shy but I like him... not over-bearing... I thought of my second session of the day with Casanova... his constant advances... his overt-male peacock cockiness... his busy fingers and continual crass lewdness was annoying, off-putting and moreover, dull & predictable... a bit like people one comes across at Fetish Clubs... you know the kind: they're in to fetish-bondage do-dahs because otherwise their life is a drab-grey amorphous nothing-ness... Joel Schwarzenberger was nothing like this... He's hiding a great-flame... I saw that sexuality would help uncover it... and here I was to test him! We'll pivot time now: We met at the reception at the end of the day... coats in hands... Joel drove me to his house... cooked a magnificently sublime chefworthy meal... we ate by candle light... He finally relaxed... talked genius-talk when he felt secure and free to express himself... it felt like we had known each other for years only though we had recently met... He was very funny too... made me crack-up a number of times with spontaneous laughter... wasn't so much what he said - but the way he said it... I kicked off my heels a4er dessert... rubbed my bare feet against his ankles under the table... Always the gentlemen he then offered to make coffee, if I so desired... As he made it I excused myself to the ladies' room - taking my handbag with me, of course... Went upstairs and sneaked into his bedroom... I found a room that was more a Library than a sleeping-place... piles of manuscript a4er manuscript laying on a chock-a-block-full desk of papers... I started to read... and found myself instantly absorbed by the beauty of his writings... the consideration of word, form, sound and meaning was dazzling... it was if the pages he had touched glowed shining and golden upon me as I read... transmitting his conciousness through me... I had been a while gone... Joel Schwarzenberger came to look see where I was... found me enraptured by his manuscripts... Running across the room he screamed: "NOoooo!" Grabbed the manuscript away from me and took it within his grasp... cuddles it closely as a mother protects her child in times of danger... says, almost sobbingly: "They're not for anyone else to see!" "But they're beautiful Joel..." - I got up from the chair... walked to him and said: "I'm amazed by what I've just read..." - but he backed away as I came closer to him... I sensed he felt intruded upon... insecure once again... threatened... his haven invaded... he trembled out the words: "You shouldn't have come in here..." I quickly dart across the room to stop him walking out the door... I lft his head up to face me with my right hand fingers placed under his chin, saying: "You're a GENIUS... You just have to accept this... "You can't keep such beauty to yourself... "For it is a crime against your own Soul... "You're a GENIUS... You just have to come to terms with this!" He kissed me... embraced me... said a million thank-yous... a great-weight lifted from his shoulders... I dried the thankful-emotiontears from his eyes... I twirled my lashes at him, asking: "Read for me!" I sat at his feet as he began reading from his poetic-genius tomes... caressing his legs... listening in a intoxicating trance to his beatific sounds... his timbre and inflections... stressed syllables and emotionbased pronounciations... In a trance - similar to one induced by hearing the God of Music play the Sitar - I slowly... gradually... undress Joel to his original form. Naked before me he continues through manuscript after manuscript... speaking his words that before he had only read to himself... I kiss his body... every part... except the lips - so he can keep on reciting... I motion for him to move onto his bed... I sweep the numerous scrawled-on pieces of paper off the bed and lay him face down... his most recently created manuscript lays before him on the pillow - his head cupped by his hands... he starts to read from his "Ode to the Love of Love" in sensitive hushed quiet yet penetrating love-language tones... Hearing it is like falling in love itself... I wish I could recount it to you dear readers... but it is too beautiful to remember the words... I twirled my tongue around his rim and made his world spin spin spin... his flesh tingled ecstatic shivers... his voice quivered whilst I tongue-twirled inside him... he pleasure-groaned inbetwixt each line of his Love Poem... I timed it so... and he reciprocated perfectly... Joel nearly started to orgasm... which distracted him from his Ode reciting... broke his rhythm... I slip his body round so he's face-up... he holds the manuscript in front of him in the air... and slip his cock-head inna my life... leave it their to rest a while... I lock eye-contact with him like this as he continues to perform his poetry piece... rub my hands on his not-too-hairy, slightly fluffy chest... fondle his nipples... caress his neck & chin with finger-tips cat-like... His "Ode to the Love of Love" builds in deliverance... builds in passion... and mostly builds in Love Love & more Love... I start to take in his member to match his poetic-rhythm... Rock n Roll in unification... Spinning flesh round my mouth... and the flesh made word into my ears... Spinning love twirls to my brain... he set off explosions inside me that could seed galaxies... explosions and rushes that showed me the light of creation... Seed that tasted like Ambrosia mixed with Ichor in a burst of ecstasy shot from him to me at the ultimation of his night's recital... and the manuscript fell from his hands to his chest... We kissed - his seed still in my mouth... we rolled it around each other's tongues, giggling playfully... licking it off each other's lips until I poured it all into his mouth and whispered: "Swallow it!" And it came to pass that he did, and he tasted that it was good. We lay intwined, silent, spooning... Birds outside sang... it was nearly morning... Joel fell asleep... he entered the `It-Realm.' It was nearly time for me to depart... I noticed a wardrobe behind two towering piles of hard-back books that I hadn't earlier... These towers removed themselves... and I opened the wardrobe to find an exquisite collection of dresses, skirts, tops, blouses, gowns and frocks that I myself would be delighted to wear... I rummaged about the room some more... books removing themselves out of the way... to find lingerie, tights & stockings, panties and bras, even a couple of wigs - one blonde, one bruneCe... I peered under his bed and saw a neatly lined up assortment of stileCoes and strappy sandals... even a pair of Mary-Janes... I smiled, thinking: "Well every girl simply has to have a pair of those!" I searched the house and gathered together all his male clothes... they were barriers to his cage... "He should be freed... I will free him!" His male clothes were removed to a different existence... I undressed and lay my secretary-clothes upon the chair before his desk... I took a blank sheet of paper from out of his typewriter and wrote a note: `Remember. This is who you are. `Be Yourself: Who You Really Are. `Wear the clothes that you have bought for yourself... the clothes that adorn your closet should be shown to the world just as your poetry must be shown to the world... They are both expressions of the true Joel Schwarzenberger that will dazzle the world with its beauty in the years ahead... `Wear these, my clothes, to your work-place and you will be forever free to live life as you are destined to... `I love you, and will forever be watching you... Your Goddess.' Placed the note on my clothes on the chair... kissed Joel on the lips as he slept and walked through his bedroom door and into the mainliving quarters of Mother's Palace... I had expected to return to my dressing-room, to Maids & Angels - and so was a little shocked for a second... "You're Late!" My Mother, the God of Love, proclaims from behind a chair where I didn't see her... Mother gets up from her chair... paces angrily toward me... "Where have you been? Have you forgotten about dinner with the King tonight?" I had been so enraptured by Joel and his words that I must have lost track of time... I thought I had only been about 2 heaven-hours with him... but it must've been about 5 or 6 or so... and so yeah I completely forgot... My mother picked up my thought vibrations and tuCed... Then sighed and said: "You'll have to learn not to get too carried away with your godlytasks and duties my Daughter... Naked again I see... Oh well..." - she shrugged and took my hand, says: "Let us go..." - and flies us out the Palace ceiling through an open sky-light... "But what about some clothes?" I ask my mother... She replies: "There's no time... the King is already waiting!" Next Episode: Dinner with the King, God of Music, and his brother, the God of Food. Epilogue: I kept my promise and watched Joel develop over his many years... he did indeed wear my secretary outfit to work the very next day... and never returned to wearing male-clothes at all a4er our time together... he began to exceed in his work-place, despite the obvious discriminations that a transvestite will come up against in office-life and street-life... he gathered confidence... walked taller and taller (whether in high heels or not...) - And he started reciting his words at events & happenings... Some years later when he had gained enough experience and esteem to perform his poetry like he had performed it to me on the night of our encounter he gave a shining dazzling deliverance of his "Ode to the Love of Love" to a packed audience at the Royal Albert Hall... A night that has been wriCen about down human-history ever since as a shining beacon of Poetic Genius... All because of moi... The Goddess of Sexuality!