Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Day Seven Hundred And Seventy-Seven


Dear Diary,

"When you're sharing your Passion, Don't disrespect Agency, Share your Passion, don't force it." - Tabitha Diaz, Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Passion

Even with a Domain she is as Passionate about as Passion itself, our Goddess recognizes that there are limits. That if we do not remain mindful, we will inevitably bring harm unto others. Possibly without any desire to do harm, but out of misplaced eagerness to share our Passion with others. When we find our Passion, it is easy to think, to believe, that every other person we meet, especially those we love, will find as much joy in our Passion as we do. While they may in fact find joy in our joy, because that is part of what loving is about, they may not find their Passion in the same things we do. Even though shared Passion and shared joy is one of the greatest things in the Mortal Realm and beyond, we must not allow the search for that joy to lead us to choices anathematic to our Goddess. So share your Passions with others, especially those you love, but do so prepared to accept that while they take joy in your joy, they do not find joy in your Passion. Accepting this is key to sharing Passion without harming the Agency of others. - Priestess Most High Above All Others, Archmage Imperator Saffron Aetos-Diaz, Commentary on the Doctrine of Tabitha

Yeah, again my Kitten knocks it out of the park without hardly trying. Funny, I actually remember what I was thinking about when I wrote that original Verse. Not sure why, but I had it on the brain that day. Yes, more than normal. Actually, I think the real problem I had was a jones for some old school video games, with sex as a kind of dessert slash nightcap. Yeah, I'm not sure exactly why, but even back then engaging in some two player video antics while my partner dumped loads of steaming hot information into my brain put me in the mood for them to dump entirely different kinds of loads wherever they fuckin' wanted.

Okay, no unprotected vag filling if I wasn't on the pill, because back in the day I had no desire for centipedes in my vagina. Which, since that's how I saw it back then, while here and now I have a deep and abiding need for a certain Kitten to put a kitten in my love mitten, I'm... Yeah, that was too much even for me. But it rhymed, and it made me laugh before it made me cringe, so fuck it. I do get all gooey and also possibly slippery when I think about that, and I'm not just talking boy-mode Saffron. I'm talking about having that belly henna light up and say 'Saffron's bun is in your oven and cooking, wait seven to fourteen months for delivery', which just makes me jumpy enough to self-service if I had to. Which I don't.

Shit, I just realized something. A couple things, really. First, our poor Darling might wind up worshipping the porcelain throne for another ten fuckin' months. Which means I might too, and the fact that my lady bits are still growling, 'baby in me when' impatiently says something about exactly how much I want that. Second, I use the term 'servicing' inside my head when thinking about masturbation. When I think about how I responded to Lachlan using it, I think it might say something about my single player mode failure lately. It's almost like I want there to be some kind of attraction, intimacy, or emotional connection with whoever I'm exchanging dopamine release with, and I can't seem to make that connection with myself.

That leads in to the third thing; I never had that kind of problem back in the day. Not in the slightest. I lost days, even weeks alone in my bedroom chasing that rush. Catching it, too, multiple times a day most times. I also, as noted, had less than no desire to spawn. But here and now, that's completely flipped, and I'm vaguely worried as to why. Not, like, throw everything into Defcon One because of that shit, because there are so many things that could have caused either one. They might not be related. Or both of them could be due to some external influence. More likely, both of them are from the internal influence of the fattest of asses, the hypermelanistic orange tabby of unusual size herself. Thing is, it might not be that, either. It might just be me growing up. Moving on to the next stage of my life, where I've found partners I love, which makes autoerotic activity seem kinda like eating all the cookies when I know not only that my loved ones like those cookies, but that I enjoy watching them eat almost more than I enjoy the cookies my own self.

Okay, yeah, my brain just gave me the replay of looking at Saffron's ass in the ceiling mirror when she'd bent herself just beyond perpendicular to work on her oral presentation skills. Then another blast from when she gave me the full sensorium of her going hands free while continuing to eliminate any and all tension or sense of self while doing so.

Wow. Yeah, I just realized, that's also kinda telling. What actually happens at those moments of massive repeated dopamine release is that all my tension goes away. I'd say 'all my pain', but all the endorphins in the world can't do that. What they can do, on the other hand, is make me not give a single solitary fuck about that pain. Like, if right in the middle of that skill up session she'd said some shit like 'you're getting pierced now', I'd probably have been all 'that's nice, Kitten, make sure to hit it with a Cure so it doesn't get infected, and put some nice bling in there so it doesn't seal up too quick'.

The fact that I can so readily describe my tension evaporating as 'me going away' is a little disturbing, maybe something I need to go talk with the ladies and my parents about, when I've got some down time.

Which I sort of had today, but I wasn't really copacetic about leaving things to focus on my messed up head, what with a sense that shit would soon be going down in Boltophsberg. Which, just to be clear, is not my circus, even if some of my monkeys are currently in or around the City. So long as my people aren't harmed by it, they can be as rowdy as they like in their whole urban renewal activities. But I'm sort of worried that the shit will spill out into my circus tent, or hurt some of my monkeys.

As the end of the day neared, I held up one hand in the nigh universal 'wait a second' gesture, then took a moment to Heal myself. Given that I didn't want awkward questions, I even hit myself with the old insta-clean trick, although that still felt like chlorine bleach smells. When I stood, Lemmy had a booger look on his face.

"You'd ask for a moment, then Heal yourself?"

I shrugged. "I mean, it's getting on to dinner time. My kids and ladies expect me at home, and I think the kids would worry if I came home looking like I'd had the shit kicked out of me."

He had the gall to look smug. "Why not? It's true, after all."

I snorted, snickered, then held out a hand to him, "c'mere. No, really, no traps or anything." When he took my hand, I tugged on Siobhan a bit, hit him with a complicated Heal mostly directed by her, then said, "hold on tight, this next bit is unpleasant," before cleaning him up as well. Both our outfits looked a little ragged, but with no bruises or blood, that didn't look nearly as bad.

"And now you remove all evidence of my valor!"

I rolled my eyes. "Dude. That was full contact sparring. Kinda fun, and if you're down for more later, just come by the Temple or the Homestead and let me know. I need a workout partner I'm not worried about hurting."

Lemmy nodded, even more smug slipping onto his face. "You are not weak."

"Yeah, okay. Sure. Um, you want dinner?"

"You would make me food?"

I shook my head, chuckling. "Nah. You kept me kinda distracted here today. But that means it's pure Marie tonight, which. I gotta tell you, you do not want to miss Marie's cooking."

"You'd have me eat food your woman made?"

No idea what his deal with, so I just said, "you were a little bit of a dick when it came to knocking my glassware around and scaring my kids, but you've been cool with the sparring, so, yeah?" He opened his mouth, and I said, "just to be clear, guest rights, if you're gonna eat my food I expect you to be careful with my house and stuff, and definitely don't do anything that would scare my kids."

"Just like a woman."

I couldn't help it. He sounded so much like pre-rectalcraniectomy Larry that I snorted, laughed, banished my clothes and looked down at myself. "Holy shit, you're right! I am a woman!" Before he could do more than gawp, I tilted my head, considering. "I guess that would explain the typical lack of penis and testicles." Then, putting some comfy casual shit on, because if I was inviting him to dinner I might as well be comfy doing it, I asked, "a third time I ask you, do you want to come to dinner at my place tonight?"

Funny, he didn't do the rod thing, but he definitely stiffened as he replied, "I accept your invitation."

One more for dinner tonight, I thought at Marie as I stepped us to the Courtyard, then led Lemmy through the doors into East House, then into the dining room. I sat him to my right, because while I was tryna be diplomatic and hospitable, I wasn't so thrilled with him that I was gonna give up my good seat or my best seat partners. Which meant, today, Siobhan sitting on my lap all curled up. When she got a good look at Lemmy, she tensed a little.

You okay, Darling?

He's... Very pretty.

I chuckled and fed her some miso soup. Marie had gone for the full on sushi steakhouse experience tonight, and we had fried rice, sushi, tempura, and half a dozen different kinds of bite sized butter grilled protein. Reconsidering your stance on boys?

She swatted at me playfully. Absolutely not. But I can still acknowledge that some men are aesthetically pleasing. After a brief appreciative pause while we watched him react appropriately to Marie's tempura, she thought, will we be watching the two of you tonight at the Maw?

Surprising myself as much as her, I shook my head. He's really pretty, but he's kind of a dick.

She giggled as I carefully spooned more soup into her. Isn't that what you look for in men?

That gave me some very bad ideas, but I shelved most of them for later and went with a little bit of under the hood shapeshifting. Well, under my skirt, which also meant under her ass, given how she was using my lap as a seat. Really, Darling?

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She leaned against me, sighing. Oh, that I felt well enough for you to use me as you ought.

I kissed her, then whispered into her lips, "gimme a couple nights to sort things out."

After dessert, for which Marie had absolutely nailed fruit tempura with whipped cream, I stood and Co-Located one of me to Lemmy's side as everybody streamed back to the Bore, headed for the Bath. When he stood and started to follow, I stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Dinner, Lem. Just dinner."

"You offered me hospitality and then would deny me?"

I shook my head. "Yeah, no, look, I offered you dinner. If I thought you didn't have a place to stay, or couldn't get home in time, I'd even offer you a room; we've got plenty. But that, what you're implying? That's not something I hand out like after dinner mints."

He scoffed. Hint for anybody wanting to explore any of my orifices in a non-lethal fashion, scoffing is a big turn off for me. "Please, after what I saw you do in your Temple last night?"

I nodded, figuring I'd give diplomacy another try. "Yeah, those were all my Worshippers. Who I care deeply for. Those you saw were either Temple Volunteers or Clergy, who are absolutely the kind of people I want a close, personal relationship with, and deserve that kind of access to their Goddess. Meaning me." I paused to let him absorb that, then asked, "you gonna start Worshipping me? 'Cause, y'know, that might move you from 'not a chance' to 'bring me some top shelf alcohol and we might renegotiate'."

Another scoff. Shame he was so pretty, because if he wasn't I'd yeet him out onto his face with malice aforethought. "I am a Demigod, and have been Vyenemoinen's boon companion for centuries. Why would I Worship you?"

I shrugged, gently turning him toward the door. "Hey, Diana did." That startled him enough that he started moving without thinking about it. "Marie does on a fairly regular basis."

"Your Wife?" I did not like the dismissive way he said that, but it wasn't exactly anything I could breach his tenuous diplomatic immunity over.

"Yeah, also a Demigoddess in her own right. A Maenad, which in case you're one of the large portion of the world that forgot, means she's a Psychopomp with a whole serial immortality thing going on." When he looked like he was gonna open his mouth and show me how he could make his own boot disappear, I interrupted, saying, "now that I think about it, I've got some plans with the Imperator tonight..."

You do, do you? Kitten's voice rubbed velvet through the inside of my brain, which distracted me for a moment, and my distraction put an inappropriately eager look on Lemmy's face.

I shot her an image of exactly what I wanted, then continued motivating Lemmy toward the door. "But I don't know whether Marie is in the mood for anything like that tonight. Also, she's way less diplomatic than me, and if you brought your A game to our sparring, you'd wind up the ex-boon-companion to Vyenemoinen if you tried to force things. Or if you asked rudely."

We'd exited the outer doors, and he looked around in the cooling night air as if surprised to find himself there. He had a pondery look on his face, which got him on a very thin layer of ice when he said, "those cubs were hers?"

In case he was gonna get ideas, I said, "yeah. Hers and mine." His confusion amused me enough for me to go boy mode in The Dress. "Shapeshifting, son." I thought I nailed the 'nanomachines son' vibe, but apparently he was as uncultured as all the other macho idiots I had to deal with here and now.

Then he came very close to ending his Demigodhood when his look got even more speculative and he said, "so, your daughters and hers..."

So very close, but I'd decided to choose diplomacy, and I wasn't gonna let the prettiest boy face in Atlantis melt in my Maw just because he was an asshole. Okay, I wasn't gonna let him ruin my thus far perfect Boltophsberg diplomatic record. At the same time, I was not above manhandling him just a huge bit.

Tentacles coiled around him, including one that slammed his mouth shut. I pulled him to me, then stepped us both to M-Space, hovering near the northeastern edge of that endless meadow of tentacles. I looked to the sky, letting my rage radiate into the stars for a long moment while he squirmed. Tried to squirm. He was pretty Strong for a Demigod. Pretty Agile, too, but that didn't mean shit when I had more limbs wrapped around him than he had digits. His Endurance wasn't bad, being able to spar all fuckin' day and take plenty of hits while doing so. What with him being the Patron of the Courtesan's Guild, I really hoped he had Skills, and not just ego. So fuckin' sad that he was an asshat.

Then again, maybe the diplomatic thing to do, as I'd said about Larry so long ago, was to pull his head out, let him see, smell, and taste something other than rectum for once, and see if he decided he liked it. Show him a carrot, as it were.

Slipping back to my normal mode, I took a deep breath and stepped over to him, looking deep in his eyes. "Okay, Lemmy. We obviously got off on the wrong foot. I'mma try to reset things, restart things, hopefully put us on track to eventually being polite to each other at state dinners and shit. You cool with that?" A moment later I realized I still had him basically mummified in tentacles, with only his eyes and nose poking out. "Blink once if you're cool with me talking at you with the intent of not killing you any time soon."

He blinked, and I let go of his jaw. "You dare..."

I reached out and booped his nose, which interrupted his macho rant. "Yeah, I dare. You see the carpet we're standing on?" He nodded. "Yeah. You see the tentacles around you?" He nodded again, frowning. "Yeah. That's me. The rest of me. The me that I am desperately trying to convince not to just snap your neck, violate your corpse in interesting and entertaining ways, and eat the remains before you fully lose consciousness. D'you think maybe you can hear me out?"

He'd gone still, and now he kind of growl-squeaked, "yes?"

"Good boy!" I finger combed his hair back, then laid my palms on his cheeks. "Look, you are at least as pretty as you think you are. I am, as I've noted, a lusty wench. So if your personality wasn't so odious, or you shot me some Worship and said 'please educate me on how not to be such a dickhead', or in any other way didn't dry my lady bits up like high grade desiccant beads, I would totally be willing to rock your world. Or give you the chance to show me your world rocking Skills. But as you can clearly see, my Consent is not something you can override. Do you understand?"

He looked a little irked, but nodded. "Yes."

"Okay. We're getting somewhere. Now, again, you're stupidly pretty, enough that every time you leave your mouth shut for any length of time, I start reconsidering giving you an all access pass to Tabby's Fun Land, and given everything I found out about you while we sparred, if Marie's in the right mood and you said, 'hey, wanna go', you might get your ashes hauled by a woman custom crafted to haul ashes by the Heir to Olympus himself." He got a little sneer look on his face, and I interrupted him with, "hey, don't knock D's taste in women. He's got his own problems, but when it comes to mind-altering substances, sex, and mind-altering sex, the man's got taste. Thing is, if she's in a different kind of mood, you might get your world rocked in an entirely different way, and while I'd ask her very nicely not to mess with the perfection that is your face, I'm not sure if she could bite your manhood off in a way that would prevent it from growing back. I'm also certain that she could find a way to express 'go fuck yourself' without using any words at all. Long story short, I know, too late, but if you go up to her and politely ask for her favors, you might get them, and if you're not a dick about it, you might even walk away if she's not in the mood. Got it?"

He looked a little testy, but then I was about to venture into the territory that had almost made him an ex-Lemmy, so that was fine. "Yes."

"Okay, good. Now, if any of my ladies come to you and said, 'please, Mister Lemmy, sir, I would like your penis in my vagina' or any variation thereon, I'm not the jealous type. I think jealousy is stupid. If what they say about you and Vyenemoinen's wives is true, you get that too. So if that face of yours lures them in, worst I'm gonna do is sit back with some popcorn and watch."

"You'd risk losing them to me?" he sneered.

I laughed in his face. "Yeah, no, look Lemmy, we're ride or die until the end of time. If one of them decided you were their preferred side piece, more power to you. If you managed to correct that awful attitude enough that all of us were thinking more about your face than the bullshit spewing out of your mouth, you might even find a spot in the cuddle puddle on the big bed of awesome every night. But, and you need to understand this, if I even suspect you forced even one of them? You would wish Marie had sliced your dick off, grilled it, sliced it up, made spaghetti sauce out of it, and pumped it into your mouth via your asshole. Are we clear?"

That got him. He'd gone still when I described that, and not in a 'ooh, smexy' way. Definitely in an 'oh, shit, I may be in Actual Danger' kind of way. "Yes, Mistress."

"Not what I'm called, except by Darling and maybe T, and you are Not There Yet." I stared, he nodded, and I moved into the bit that nearly got him offed before he knew what hit him. "Now, I'm not one of those moms with unrealistic expectations. Some of my girls are gonna be wildcats. In every sense of the word. If, at some point in the future, maybe a couple decades from now, when they're grown up and looking to party, one of them should see that pretty face of yours and disregard their mother's advice on content over packaging, they may approach you and say something like, 'Mister Lemonkyenin sir, I would like nothing so much as to look at that very pretty face while you're providing me with my very first orgasm provided by a partner'. If they do so? I might be disappointed in their taste, but so long as you do nothing to harm them, I won't be mad at you."

Now he looked confused. He opened his mouth a couple times, but nothing came out.

"Yeah. But if I find out you did anything, and I am including inducing anyone else to do anything, or suggesting that someone else should do anything, that brings any kind of harm to any of my girls?"

I squeezed. First gently, just to let him know that I was being gentle. Then I ramped up the pressure. Wrapped more tentacles around him and squeezed harder. When the tiniest of pained squeaks leaked through his clenched jaw, I leaned in close enough to brush my lips against his as I spoke, staring deep into his eyes until I wrapped my tentacles around them. "If you do anything like that, I will eat you by squeezing every part of you so hard that your insides spurt out of your mouth into mine. And when there is nothing left inside your skin, I will have Marie stitch you into an inflatable love doll, convince all my guy friends to use you until you're a spooge balloon, and then drop you in my Maw like a cream filled pastry."

I squeezed just the tiniest bit harder, until I heard his bones creaking, then pulled the tentacles away from his face. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, Goddess."

"Good. What is our understanding, then?"

"If your women want me, I may have them. If, once they are women grown, your daughters want me, the same is true. But if you suspect I have despoiled them..." He went quiet.

He got a little green even, so I leaned in and whispered in his ear. "You die in the most painful, embarrassing fashion I can think of at the time. Right?"

"Yes, Goddess."

I set him on the docks in front of the Questing Tentacle. Slipped my Blended tentacles away from him, holding him gently until I was sure he could stand on his own two feet. "Just so you know, I wasn't fucking with you about you being very, very pretty. Or about wanting to be friends." I paused, but he didn't say anything. "You good to get home from here on your own?"

"Yes, Goddess."

I smiled at him, leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, then spun him around and slapped his ass hard enough to put him in motion toward the City. "Okay then. Have a nice night, Lemmy."

Stepped back to the Homestead. Specifically, to the Bedroom, because I was still not in the mood I wanted to be in while dealing with the girls, especially the kits. Mostly because I really didn't want to start a whole assed war that Saffron didn't want just because some douche was passively douchey. So I flopped back onto the mattress, arms spread, knees hooked over the foot of the Bed. Which is when I noticed Saffron standing in the middle of the open space, wearing Glowing Midnight's lingerie and boots.

I think she was drooling a little.

"Goddess."

"Aw, Kitten. Call me Goof?" She panted a little. "You were listening?" She nodded. I closed my eyes. "Make me forget all about him."

"May I use my hands?"

I snickered, waving her forward. She swayed the single step it took to reach the foot of the bed, her hands clasped in front of her, hiding her adorably squishy lack of a thigh gap. "Yeah, not on me. But I'd consider it an extra special win if you make me forget I wasn't intending to bury my hands in your hair."

"Yes, Godde..."

Yeah, kinda lost that resolution when she'd bent halfway forward. Then again, I don't think there's a girl kisser in the world that would blame me, looking at that ass.

I've said it before, I'll say it again, if you can't laugh during your antics, you're doing it wrong. In this case, I got a case of Very Special Giggles every time I realized yet again that I'd rather look at my Kitten's ass than Lemmy's oh so perfect face.

But then, I think I've got my priorities straight on that.

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