Chapter Five: Book of Poems

Genesis of Another American God

Getting the power really began the bring down, the long fall from grace. It corrupted me, and I could only think of bed. Anyone I wanted would fall before me, begging, or doing exactly what I wished. I could revenge myself on hated enemies by having Makayla play them. I could act out fetishes and fantasies; could do unto the people I listed after as I wished. And all, I thought, without the pain of reality.

            I demanded bed time, more and more. Sex dominated my mind. Why would I want or need anything else?  And I could become, to all perception, the woman my mind wished and still pined for. But mainly I exploited, exploited, exploited, and exploited. Wouldn’t you, with all that power in your hands, such a malleable mind below you doing your bidding?

            I made her play male lovers, an older version (which scared me rather) of herself, cheerleading whores, and depressed Goth girls. Raving nymphomaniacs, prudish librarians enraptured by rapists. I made her play the male rapist, myself the poor girl enjoying every minute. Mainly though, I made her a whore. Over and over again, I enjoyed seeing the girl prostrate at my feet, looking upwards with puppy dog eyes.

            “Please, let me have it. I need you in my mouth, deep.” I trained her, made her think she needed to perfect the art of deep throat. So she did. I demanded she let me use her body for whatever I wanted and spread myself all over her. Oh how great it felt to see her beg, to see her cry. I could control her, make her tear like Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca, my favorite movie scene of all time. As I said, the power took me over, and I became a vehicle to the addiction. I needed only to control. More and more control I gained, and so I lusted for even more.

            Greed. That’s the downfall. I started to make Mayala play people we knew. And one kinky whips and chains bitch I wanted t subdue more than ever. I knew I would never control her, but I could grant myself the next best thing through these powers of mine. Playing it right, I wanted Careen. Two ways: I fantasized having her, and also existing as her.

            One scene sticks in my mind is tantalizing. It still excites me to this day. The complete control I exerted in the instance, gaining everything I wished.

            “Can I hypnotize you?”

            “Uh… I guess.” The hint of regret touched her voice, but the permission drove me foreword in the madness. This is a story about the misuse of trust, in a way, and I certainly misused it.

            “Great. Then lay back…. Breathe slowly. In and out. Out and in. in. out. In. Relax, relax, relax. Go to the castle, that mystic place,. Walk around, feel yourself slipping. Going, outwards and inwards, with. Each. Breath. Loose yourself. Come to the well—are you there?”
            “Y—yes.”

            “Look into the well, and take out the ball.”

            “I have it.”

            “Bring the ball, colors changing. Red now, yellow, into your body. Okay?”
            “Okay. I am pulling it towards me.”

            “Good. Now let your mind blank, and become what—what I tell it. But first, I want you to feel the addiction, you will forever, each time you think of it, want more and more to be hypnotized. Over and over and over. You shan’t think much of anything else. You will enjoy it, like it. And now I will count to ten, and this will become a fact in your mind. Ready?”

            “Yes.”

            “One… slipping… two… three…. Four… deeper, deeper, five…. Six, seven… open yourself to my will… eight, nine… and ten.”

            “Are you open, completely?”
            “Yes. I am.”

            “Are you willing to do… whatever I say?”

            “Yes…. What do you want?” I paused a moment, to think.

            “You will think I am Careen. But I am not just Carreen. I am her, having a secret not revealed to you yet. I, Careen, am a shemale. Understand?”

            “Yes.”

            “And that’s not all.”

            “Whatever you want,” Makayla murmured in the low, soulless voice.

            “Shemales are your fetish. You will think we are at Careen’s house. We’re looking at stuff on her computer. My computer. And She—I show you shemale porn. You are interested, and I whisper that I have a secret. I strip and show you my tits, my cock. You are enthralled. And you and Careen—you and I…. we make love. You give her everything. Complete control over you.” My cock already hardened, imagining the results. I really wanted this, my love and a lust of mine together (the lust played by myself.) I almost came right there, in the middle of the speech. “I will now count down from ten. With each number, the reality I described becomes true.”

I counted down. Snapped my fingers. She looked up, and gave me a kiss. Leaning in, she whispered.

            “I always have such fun here, Careen.”

            “It’s great to have you over, Makayla. It’s always great.”

            “What are we gonna do next?”

            “I know, let’s look at porn!”

            “That’s not like you.”

            “It isn’t? Maybe I’ve just been hiding it.” So we trooped over to my computer, playing the part of Careen’s. On the internet, I soon found a good site listing numerous shemale websites. (I actually feel rather sad using the term, as many transsexuals, transvestites, and so forth find it offensive… but there is none better to describe the nude sex pictures.) Each picture, each site found Makayla reaching down to her crotch. She started playing with it, and fidgeting. She looked as uncomfortable and horny as I ever could imagine. I pulled her down to the bed.

            “I have a secret…. It’s related to those.”
            “They get me so hot. Heh heh.”

            “Well, I am a shemale.”

            “Really?” She licked her lips.

            “Yeah.” I guided her hand down in my pants, and she kissed my cheek. We soon rolled through the sheets, exciting one another. Then I let her out of the trance, and we went at it again. What stupid kids we proved ourselves. Myself, more so I think. After all, I caught myself in the lust for power, and kept climbing the mountain even after the peak fell away and I found myself in the midst of only clouds. And like that cartoon physical experiment, I soon rushed to stay afloat. Like the cartoons, though, I fell quickly.

 

*     *     *

 

            Give me the control

            Give me your soul

            Hold the power

            Tell you when to eat

            When to shit or piss

            Determine how you shower

 

            I need you

            I need you

            I need you to let me

            Take over you

           

            I need you

            I need you

            I need you to let me

            Control you

 

            I need the control I need the soul

            Like heroin in my brain

            I got the mind it’s the right kind

            Of magic to make me sane

 

            Power—I must have more

            By each hour—I must have more

            More and more and more and more

            Each hour and power I must have more

 

            Give me the control

            Give me your soul

            Hold the power

            Tell you when to eat

            When to shit or piss

            Determine how you shower

 

            You give me a little

            I will take a lot

            Let me baby

            Yeah I will call the shots

 

            You give me some

            I take more

            I can determine

            How you act, whore

 

            I need you

            I need you

            I need you to let me

            Take over you

           

            I need you

            I need you

            I need you to let me

            Control you

           

I need you

            I need you

            I need you to let me

            Take you over now

 

            Now you may think your mind

            Is doing rather fine

            But you can leave it behind

            You give it to me

           

            And though you have tried

            There’s something inside

            I can bring it out I’ve tried

            To set my neuroses free

 

            Give me the control

            Give me your soul

            Hold the power

            Tell you when to eat

            When to shit or piss

            Determine how you shower

 

            Power—I must have more

            By each hour—I must have more

            More and more and more and more

            Each hour and power I must have more

 

I need the control I need the soul

            Like heroin in my brain

            I got the mind it’s the right kind

            Of magic to make me sane

 

            Give me the control

            Give me your soul

            Hold the power

            Tell you when to eat

            When to shit or piss

            Determine how you shower

 

            I need you

            I need you

            I need you to let me

            Take over you

           

            I need you

            I need you

            I need you to let me

            Control you

 

            I need it

            Inject me

            I need it

            Inject me

            I need it need it

            Inject me ever more

            I need it need it

            Be my whore

            Shut the door

            Do what I say

            Every day

 

            I need it

            I need it

            Inject me more

            I need it

            Inject me

            I need it

            Inject me

            I need it need it

            Inject me be my whore

 

            Now you may think your mind

            Is doing rather fine

            But you can leave it behind

            You give it to me

           

            And though you have tried

            There’s something inside

            I can bring it out I’ve tried

            To set my neuroses free

 

            I wish I could get free

            I’m a slave to this reality

            This addiction

            That creeps over me

            Inject me more

 

*     *     *

 

            Idiot I am, I felt the relationship went rather well. In happy bliss I spent most of the time, and spring looked like heaven. But all things changed, and the dark winter months came again.

            We rode on the bus one day with Careen. She sat next to me, talking. She seemed happy, light, and very teasing. Earlier that day she let me peek at her panties, which did turn me on a bit. I wished more than ever to take her—right there and then. But I didn’t. Still, the vibes in my head broadcast outwards. Makayla picked them up, and looked at the smiling faces. She started to scowl.

            Careen got off the bus. Makayla moved next to me but wouldn’t let me touch her.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing.”

            “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

            “I’ll tell you later.”

            “Can I come over then...?”

            “I dunno.”
            “Why don’t you come up to my place?”

            “Uh, okay.” She seemed pissed. I wanted to pacify her, and so I left her alone. She fidget with her skirt, and clunked her black boots back and forth. The bus eventually pulled up to my house, and we went downstairs. I put on a movie, and wanted to snuggle. But she pushed me away.

            “No. We gotta talk.”
            “Okay.” I hate these things, its always going to rip my heart out and crush it. Any glance of happiness and the glass organ shatters. I don’t take many risks because of this. After all, once you lose so many times when trying to capture a heart, your outlook turns ever so dark. She leaned back, and sighed.

            “I was thinking about this hypnosis. I never wanted to remember it. I don’t like it at all, but you love it so much so I let you. But today, with Careen, it reminded me of something. I’m not quite sure what…”
            So then it hit me. I usually made sure she would not remember the event, and so would never blame me. That day, though, when I shamefully played Careen, I forgot. Instead of making her mind wipe out the memory, we bolted awake.

            “Can you stop, then? I don’t really like hypnosis any more.” I agreed, but stipulated I could on special occasions like birthdays, etc. She agreed, but only because she really did love me. I could see it in her eyes, the little sparks and faerie fires still going strong, but starting to run down. I knew I needed to spark it up again; I needed to regain her confidence as a lover.

            She needed a gift, a confidence restorer. Something to show just how much I fell head over heels flipped into a huge vacuum with just a glance. A kiss. A saucy look. Something from my soul, deep down. A reflection of her and all she gave me and I gave her.

            I sat down at my computer and began to write. I dashed out a few bad sonnets, before finally getting into the groove. I settled on Rime Royal. Iambic Pentameter. I wrote her a lengthy poem, detailing my great love for her. A devotional, to give it a term. I coined devotional at a time when I found myself lusting after three or four girls at once. I wrote them poems, extolling their greatnesses. Devotionals, like falling down before a Madonna and extolling the great Goddess. (There is that holy book about her divinity, censored by a council formed to determine the cannon.) Then I wrote another poem, and another. Each one about my love for her, and the great grandeur of how she made me feel. Like a saving angel, the Lifters so long sought. I needed to tell her just how special the emotions arising inside me as we lay together, kissing and touching and holding, seemed inside me. I made a short book out of it, and presented it to her. It joyed her greatly, cheered her. Brought me back into her graces, as well.

 

            I love you, Makayla.

 

One:

            My angel I fall down now far to you

            And give you the highest of all high praise

            Like jet black mystery of morning dew

            I would not trade your love on any days

 

            Oh moon, you do shine in your fullest phase

            Like waves of ocean turning over me

            Oh Goddess, you ever set me so free

 

            Could I sculpt, I would build you a sculpture

            As an artist I can compose poem

            Extolling your greatness ever so pure

            For you I would lead to sin like Jerboam

 

            All these feelings inside, we both own them

            So come with me and dance so free my love

            I will stand by you always, push or shove

 

             Two:

            I want to see you

            Every night and day

            Every time I think about

            Losing you it hurts my soul    

            It might destroy me

            So give me a kiss

            And one more bliss

            I need to see you again

 

            Three:

            You come to me and I come to you

            In mist, love, or rain I come to you

 

            We kiss and love so ever strong

            I cannot keep my mind from you

 

            Like a Goddess pressed on my mind

            A shockwave pressed from me to you

 

            One more kiss, one more touch

            I need forever always with you

 

            There’s one more thing I need to say

            That seems juvenile, but I love you

 

            Four:

            I’m seeing so may things in my mind

            And they are like waterfalls   

We could tip over together

            Will you come with me

            As I run through this fantasy

            As I heed how my heart calls

            You and I in all weather

            With a love of no uncertain strong kind

 

            Five:

            A field is lit by strong spring moon

            And we’re walking through the grasses

            Laughing, you knock off my glasses

            The night plays its old siren tune

            Crickets fiddling, backed by bassoon

            So slip over to my side, dear

            Give me a kiss to show you’re near

            And I will kiss you just the same

            We’re tossing, rolling in this game

            Our love so strong is ever clear

 

            Six:

            A bed, a shadow, cast so long

            Bodies grinding like poetry

            You and I ever long to be free—

            We sing together this pure song

            Forever entwined we belong

            And I confess that I love you

            With a strong love ever so true

            So touch me now as I touch you

            Mimicking how our love strong grew

            Onwards we move love is the clue

 

            Seven:

            Give me another chance

            To taste tea with you

            To get free with you

            To shower you with kiss

            We love in bliss

            Give me, give me, give me

            I beg of you I need you see

            Give me bliss in this

            Give me another kiss

 

            Eight:

            Put yourself, dear, in my place—

            Stunned, ever, by your poise and grace.

 

            Nine:

            Great goddess with your ever shining body

            Angel descended to me

            You move me to passion

 

            Ten:

            You, Makayla, I love like the beating sea.

 

*     *     *

 

            During this time, we started an in school role-playing game. Matthew, Jake, Careen, Makayla, and I all played. We took turns, rotating as the leader of the gaming group. I never enjoyed leading much, as I found it took too much time and organization. I usually made things up off the fly, and found myself angry at the lack of control over the actions of the players.

            Once I tried to run a game based on the Anime and Manga Ranma ½ but found I could not, because the people all wanted to go off on their own. I needed the control. That’s why I write stories, why I put down thoughts. I can tell each and every character exactly what they should do. The challenge is making every action seem consistent.

            But something else started going on. I noticed it on my computer. Makayla signed in to check her blog, but forgot to sign out. I checked mine, and noticed an account called Jayke.

            “Who’s that?”

            “Nothing,” she said, and quickly brushed me out of the seat.

            “That kind of hurts.”

            “You don’t really want to know.”

            “Is it Jake?”

            “It’s a friend….”

            “Okay.”

            I noticed other odd things, too. She would excuse herself from me and go off with Jake. I felt jealous. I raged. Why should she spend more time with this asshole than with me? After all, he was not her boyfriend. That title belonged to me, as I fought a long battle to win her heart and mind and soul.

            It looked to me like an addiction, some kind of craving to exist not with me at all. With Jake instead. I knew addiction well, still craving all the time to regain control, to hypnotize once more. It got so bad one day, I felt so ignored, that I went back to the bridge I tried to jump off so long before. I rushed out, nearly knocking Careen over. She ran first, and Makayla followed.

            “Something wrong?” Careen leaned down.

            “Of course there is. Go away.” My girlfriend ran up.

            “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

            “What’s wrong with you?” Careen backed away. Makayla ran off. I went after her, eventually ending up at an old football field. I sat down on a bleacher next to her.

            “I’m feeling rather awkward lately. You’re spending no time with me. I’m supposed to be your boyfriend. But you spend all your time with Jake.”

            “Well, it’s just. No. I promised not to tell. You don’t wanna know.”

            “Yes I fucking do.”

            “Promise you won’t get angry.”

            “I’m already angry.”

            “But don’t get anymore angry.”

            “Fine. Okay. I won’t. Now what the hell is going on.”

            “It’s Jake.”

            “Oh great. I might as well fucking die now. Go off with him.”

            “It’s not that at all. He’s got a sickness.”

            “Sure, make excuses.”

            “Shut up for a fucking minute and listen. He’s got multiple personalities. One of them is a little girl. He’s attached to me like a mother. Well, she is.”

            “I don’t give a fuck. Goodbye.” I ran off. I’m not proud of it. I stayed low, away from anyone I knew for a few days. When Jake sat next to me the next day, I made rude comments about how doctors always know best. I am not proud of my actions, and rather shamed by them. It amounted to discrimination, and even recalling such action makes me sick to my stomach.

The demon of Jealousy returned, and even my chosen Lifter great angel Makayla could not prevent its reign. I started to doubt every little kiss, nudge, hug, or hold. Did it really mean everything it seemed to? I knew I loved her, deeper than three bar under the ocean. I loved her with similar pressure. I got over the temporary setback, and the little girl personality finally left. The gods found me praising them that everything returned to normal. Little did I know the brief spike, those forays against me, would relapse later. Retrospectively, which means nothing; it is all so obvious now. After all, I did promise to understand that my so-cherished girl, ever confused, might not remain exactly faithful in body. She promised faithfulness in heart. Heart faith should exceed any other circumstance. If a strong love still exists, then everything works out. This I would love to believe. Circumstances showed that path is not mine, and I am a monogamous in body and heart, very traditional soul.

I do not begrudge those who can maintain this happiness. Now I know it is not for me. My conservatism, my Republican values, really stem from this: I do not believe in change for its own sake. For myself, I want stability. A corner to cry in, an anchor to stop me from floating ever far away from the rest of humanity. Others may like change, may desire it. I wish them well. I am a stone, I do not change. And I think most people do not either, no matter how much they try. Gods know I never got over random jealousies for idiotic reasons.

I even got jealous over a girl who is, at least in her mind, simply a friend. (This girl I pine for still.)

In a week or so, every action of those dark days disappeared. We all felt friends again, or at least pleasant. I did make a habit of mentioning Jake’s disability to those who might understand him better knowing such. I told Godfrey this, as well as another friend. Each said “that makes sense,” and seemed to come away with a slightly greater respect for the man.

 

*     *     *

 

Tell me where are you going

Have you betrayed me

With this other man

 

Tell me you love me

And have no other lover

That I am better than

 

Anyone else you need me

As I need you so hard

Tell me I am

Better than

Any other possible lover

Tell me please

That I’m your man

 

Lately I been having doubts

Creeping in and crawling out

Sometimes I just want to shout

I can feel alone

Don’t leave me alone

 

I’ve been thousands of miles

Ridden every fence

I can’t lose you

My one defense

To any man

Even though they’re better than

 

I

See you hanging out

My hearts in doubt

Come to me now again

Tell me we’re not just a sin

Or I shall cry

 

Tell me where are you going

Have you betrayed me

With this other man

 

Tell me you love me

And have no other lover

That I am better than

 

Anyone else you need me

As I need you so hard

Tell me I am

Better than

Any other possible lover

Tell me please

That I’m your man

 

It’s scaring me

Scaring me

Scaring me so

Every place I wander

Through minds I want to know

That you aren’t leaving

You won’t go

When I need you most of all

When I need you oh

 

And I, I, I

See you hanging out

My hearts in doubt

Come to me now again

Tell me we’re not just a sin

Or I shall cry

 

You pain me

Refrain me

Sometimes you drain me

But you always breathe life

Speak to me

Set me free

Kiss me away from this strife

 

I need you

I’m lonely apart

I need you

To play your part

I need you

Evermore

I need you

To man my heart’s door

 

         My angel I fall down now far to you

         And give you the highest of all high praise

         Like jet black mystery of morning dew

         I would not trade your love on any days

So don’t take it away

Don’t take it away

Please will you stay

Please stay, I pray

 

Anyone else you need me

As I need you so hard

Tell me I am

Better than

Any other possible lover

Tell me please

That I’m your man

 

Tell me where are you going

Have you betrayed me

With this other man

 

Tell me you love me

And have no other lover

That I am better than